


Brilliant Y/n

by ChiDrinksTea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/F, F/M, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Slice of Life, Smart Reader, Toxic Mother, Volleyball Dorks in Love, genius reader, highschool, implied childhood abuse, toxic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 41,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26837500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiDrinksTea/pseuds/ChiDrinksTea
Summary: [various haikyuu x fem! reader]❝ I don't love anyone. ❞Nakata Y/n, a brilliant girl growing up in a not so brilliant world who wills herself to transform, to become something more than what she is. In doing so, she imposes on boys and girls alike the beauty and the danger of her mind.
Relationships: Haiba Lev/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Kageyama Tobio/Reader, Kozume Kenma/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Nishinoya Yuu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Shimizu Kiyoko/Reader, Sugawara Koushi/Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader
Comments: 35
Kudos: 137





	1. intro

It was something you, Nakata Y/n, had been born with. The ability to think freely, to charge reality with electricity and to reduce, in an instant, the difficult, the intense, into something understandable, something everyone could share in. You were, in other words, a brilliant child, and even though it had gone unnoticed until your first year of elementary school, you had always been that way. Somehow, that had been what attracted everyone to you then, so suddenly and all at once. You had, without knowing or understanding it fully, as a kid, always been waiting for someone to notice or acknowledge you, because deep down, you too knew that you had the analytical brain power to achieve incredible things. All you had needed was someone, anyone really, to notice that you could indeed transform from the ugly duckling you were into the graceful swan you aspired to be.

During your first year of elementary school, your dream finally came true in the shape of Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime. Two friends who just so happened to cross paths with a raging storm, and decided to befriend it. From then on, your fate was pretty much sealed, you were going to be a swan, no matter how much time it took you to transform.

And boys, especially those that liked playing volleyball, would suffer because of your transformation, often falling like leaves in autumn. 

How could anyone expect you to be completely normal? After all, you were a girl who believed in making things difficult for the world which had, actually, made things difficult for you first.

Maybe this was a love story, maybe it wasn't. Sometimes, love stories don't have the most romantic beginnings, and sometimes the endings aren't that great either. Your story revolved around you, and maybe the boys and girls that along the way couldn't help but get entangled in your net.


	2. Y/n has monopoly over your mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Y/n meets Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime...

He had been by your side from what he liked to call the start, and while it might not have been the start of you, it had definitely been a start for you. You had been six and tiny at the time, he had been eight and also tiny, but definitely not as tiny as you, and both Iwaizumi and he had noticed you the moment you had first stepped into that park. 

The first conversation, if you could really call it that, he remembered having with you was something concerning your classmates, and even then, it had really been more of a passing remark on his part. Admittedly, he hadn't been half as interested as Iwaizumi, and had, at the time, let out numerous sighs to signal that he wanted the conversation with you to be over. That was then, and the way he had been so clueless at the time still made him chuckle today; nowadays, in comparison, he treasured every moment spent in your presence.

Unlike Iwaizumi, who had seemingly noticed something special about you from the start, it had taken Oikawa two whole months before he noticed your presence, really noticed it. Two months of him rolling his eyes whenever Iwaizumi would grumble about checking up on you, and two months of him walking past you in the hallways without noticing the intense fire burning in your eyes.

But after that, his period of ignorance had been over, and Oikawa Tooru finally understood. 

You hadn't been pretty then, in fact, your wild unkempt hair had covered most of your face, and the often angered expression you wore had seemed only unpleasant to him at age eight, and yet, there had been something so special about you, something so colossally huge that it still astounded him today that it had fit into your tiny body.

You, Nakata Y/n, had a presence, a presence of mind that was able to keep him hooked. As a young girl, you had owned him, and now, at eighteen, you still owned him in every sense of the word.

And perhaps it was cruel — no, there was no perhaps, it was cruel, but Oikawa Tooru hoped - prayed even, that nothing on this earth would ever be able to contain you, and that sooner or later, you would be forced to find your way into his arms. His awaiting arms that would be there for you, at any time and place, to take care of you, with or without containment.

There was no doubt about it, Oikawa Tooru was absolutely, completely and helplessly in love with you, and he had been since you were children.

That was a long time, and now at eighteen, he was able to properly acknowledge it. And yet, he remembered how it hadn't always been that way, and how it had taken him so very long to realize.

━━━━┅━━━

YOU LOOKED FRAGILE, delicate in your beauty, and in the way your soft skin gleamed, your now neat hair shimmered and your petite and lithe form moved. In appearance, you were the soft snow that shone in the morning hours, but in spirit, you were the wolf that hunts at night. Contradiction took form in your presence.

Iwaizumi Hajime knew all of this, but more than that, he understood that there had been a time before that. There had been a time where no one would spare you a second glance, there had been a time where the only thing drawing eyes to you had been the constant state of anger you were in.

He understood how you had grown, evolved really, and shed your old skin. No longer were you the ugly duckling, but then again, had you really ever been in his eyes?

Iwaizumi's friendship with you began the day you walked past both him and Oikawa with a bloody nose and a crumpled piece of paper hanging from your bag.

He remembered the light of the sun, the precise angle even, the smell that he now associated with the end of summer and the sound of your muffled cries. Everything about that day, but mostly you, was engraved in his memory. He had debated then going up to you and asking what was wrong, but he hadn't done anything, not until you accidentally dropped the paper you were holding while making to continue on your way.

In that moment, he had locked eyes with Oikawa, and then the two of them had rushed after you, him, of course, beating Oikawa to picking up the crumpled paper first. 

"Hey," he had called, his eyes not leaving your hands. He had noticed how they were clenched to fists, and that you were shaking with something akin to fury. 

You had whirled around then, hair flying everywhere. "What?!"

Time stopped for a moment then, or maybe he had just imagined it, all that didn't matter, all that had mattered was the look on your face, the look in your eyes.

He had walked towards you then, taken your hand in his and roughly pushed the paper you had dropped back into your hands. "You dropped this."

"Oh." You hadn't looked up at him, opting instead to look at the ground while rubbing your hands over your teary face. While doing so, you had unintentionally smeared the blood all over your cheeks.

"Stop that." He had caught your wrist then, and turned on the spot, dragging you behind him.

"Oikawa. Get some tissues."

"What?! Why, Iwa-chan? I don't want to get tissues. You get tissues." 

"Just do it, Stupidkawa!"

He had led you, without you saying anything, to the well at the edge of the park. "Here, wash your face."

He had watched you as you did so, with you sniveling a bit here and there, and apparently still not ready to look at him. He had looked down at the paper, and found that to his surprise, you weren't a kindergarten kid.

"You're in school?"

That had offended you, and you had, similarly to before, whirled around to face him yet again. That withering glare of yours hadn't lasted particularly long though, as your nose bleed came back with a   
vengeance at your turn.

But, at that point in time, you had given him one of your firm looks that he now would recognize everywhere, for the first time. Your eyes narrowed and your lips pursed. Even then, the intensity in your flashing eyes had thrown him off course, and he was able to see that yes, you were in school. 

There had been something mature in your gaze, and despite your height and overall tininess, he supposed you hadn't looked younger than your age.

You hadn't said a word, and he was the one who did the talking, trying -- while at the same time trying to appear like he wasn't really trying -- to get you to talk about why you were crying.

After he had watched you clean up and try to calm yourself for some time, he had averted his gaze to the piece of paper yet again. It was a test, written by you and corrected by a Sensei at his school. That meant you were a first year student at his school, and maybe that was why he hadn't recognized you.

He had been only a second year himself at the time.

"You got full marks," he had grunted, at a loss for anything else to say. 

"Undeserved. Sensei missed a mistake of mine." Your voice had been high, and slightly cracked from crying, but he remembered grinning slightly after hearing your words. Finally, you had said something.

"Is that why you're crying?" He had asked, but before you could even attempt to answer (not that he thought you would), Oikawa's annoyed humming could be heard in the distance.

The two of you were silent until Oikawa arrived, you quickly snatching the crumpled test from Iwaizumi's hands with a 'hmph'.

"Here." Oikawa pushed the tissues into your awaiting hands, sticking his tongue out as he did so. Iwaizumi remembered the way you had confusedly tilted your head to the side at that, and the way he had immediately hit Oikawa on the back of the head for that.

"So, your classmates don't like you," Oikawa had then said, completely surprising both you and Iwaizumi. You had flinched, and turned your glare on Oikawa instead.

Oikawa had been impatiently tapping his foot while looking longingly at the volleyball court on the other side of the court. He hadn't really cared for your issues.

"What do you know?!"

"More than you! You're just a little kid~" He had singsonged, effectively making you stomp your foot. Iwaizumi had just watched that interaction, and watched too as you tried (and failed) to lecture the obviously uninterested Oikawa who couldn't keep his sighs in.

After that day, the three of you didn't become friends, and neither he nor Oikawa even knew your name.

But Iwaizumi Hajime had noticed you, and it was exactly that, which, in the week to come, made the friendship between the two of you start to blossom.

And that day, as he had watched you walk away, with Oikawa's annoying whining ringing in his ears, he had thought, as he still did today, that you were beautiful.

No, you weren't beautiful for something as ephemeral and fleeting as your looks, but for something else, for something that burned in the very depths of your soul.


	3. Little by little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elementary years  
> Nakata Y/n, six years old  
> Iwaizumi Hajime, eight years old  
> Oikawa Tooru, eight years old

Iwaizumi Hajime had to be a really kind person, you thought. You noticed that in the way he would occasionally glance at you, not worried per se, but at least checking that you still existed. One encounter in the park had apparently already guaranteed you a spot on his radar. You quite liked that, the attention, that is.

Of course, you noticed his kindness through the other things he did as well, but since you liked focusing on yourself, you would do exactly that, and focus on the kindness he had shown you.

It shouldn't have shocked you as much as it did, you didn't know the boy after all, but you had thought his gruff way of speaking was something that made him scary -- unlike his friend, the one you would now only call bratty, who had seemed more innocent and charming at first glance, but who in reality was only an annoying whiny kid.

They were an odd pair, but since you had nothing better to do, observing them became a way to pass the time. What else was there to do in school anyway? Surely, there was nothing you could really learn.

Iwaizumi Hajime was the one who had taken the initiative to help you. You liked the look of him, the tan skin, the dark eyes and the short spiky black hair. He also apparently liked furrowing his dark brows, and best of all, telling off his friend whenever he did something annoying. That happened quite often. He would smack the back of his friend's head, and whenever he did that, you couldn't help but laugh out loud, not a care in the world as you knew they wouldn't hear you, and that everyone else already thought you were crazy anyway.

The friend who more often than not got hit was Oikawa Tooru, with big eyes, messy but unfairly soft looking brown hair, and pale skin that made his flushed cheeks all the more noticeable.

They were funny to watch, especially when they argued about mundane things. Who would win in a fight, Iwaizumi's Godzilla or Oikawa's aliens? Sometimes you were even tempted to add your own opinion, sure of the fact that Sauron (your personal hero) could still swoop in whoop both their asses. Really, there was no debate.

Of course, you never really got to adding what you thought. In fact, it wasn't until two weeks after your first meeting in the park that you even talked to Hajime again. And Oikawa, two months after that.

But that wasn't to say you completely ignored the duo. Yes, you watched them, and while Oikawa didn't even notice you, Iwaizumi Hajime did. There was even a certain kind of intimacy between the two of you, intimacy that consisted of the exchange of a glance, a nod of the head, a shrug of a shoulder.

Never more than that, and you thought that it would remain like that, too. 

And it did, until suddenly, after two weeks of that, it didn't.

On this particular day, a day where you had risen extra early, before even the earliest of birds went tweet-tweet, and only a whisper of sunlight was seen creeping over the rolling hills, you were tired, too tired to even put it into words. And as the day progressed, the lessons becoming more and more grueling, you realized that yes, you were hungry. More importantly, you were so very hungry that the lack of food was starting to get to you, too. 

Admittedly, you were always in a state of agitation and trepidation, under the strain of some undefined threat no one else was taking any notice of even when you weren't hungry, but when you actually were hungry, this trapped feeling of yours resulted in a dizzy spell and an explicitly foul mouth.

Your tiredness paired with your hunger was not a good mixture. So, you weren't too surprised when you finally bumped into someone, and promptly landed on your butt. No sound escaped you, and you were still taking a minute to take it all in when a voice spoke above you.

"Why are you wearing a wool sweater?"

You used the sleeves of your blue wool sweater to wipe the sweat from your forehead before squinting up at him, a haughty glare decorating your features.

"Why are you wearing your stupidity?" Admittedly, not your best retort, you noted in your later years, but you were six and as your overly dramatic self insisted, on the very verge of starvation. The figure above you grunted, before reaching down, and pulling you up with apparent ease. You recognized him immediately, and wondered, with an eye roll, if this boy had a fetish for wrist grabs.

It was Iwaizumi Hajime, in all his spiky-haired eight-year-old glory. For a minute, he stared at you weirdly, and you stared back, more so in an attempt to freak him out than anything else.

It didn't work, and Iwaizumi just looked at you some more, even obnoxiously tilting his head to the side.

You wore a thick blue wool sweater that made even him feel hot just looking at you, and leggings that seemed far too baggy, with hair that looked fun to draw as it was almost comically messy, and then, there was, of course, the matter of your eyes.

You had large, questioning eyes that seemed to draw him in, and even in your tired and almost befuddled state, there was something akin to rage that simmered just beneath the surface of your eyes, baiting him. You seemed to him to be in such a state of contradiction that he would not be surprised if your head exploded.

He knew you.

Similarly to you, he had watched you, and noticed. He had noticed the small things, while possibly, at the very same time, missing the big things other people cared so much for. He missed how you sometimes had a bit of an attitude (or, well, he didn't miss it, there was no way someone could miss that, he just didn't particularly care), liked talking back to teachers and would more often than not be angry at someone much bigger than you.

He missed all of that, or at least, he didn't acknowledge it.

Instead of the obvious things, he noticed the secret, small things. He noticed how you would more often then not bend over in hunger, how you rarely ate something at school, how your appearance was always disheveled, never cared for, and how you seemed so very intent on going through life on your own. Recently, he also noted how you had been eyeing his sandwiches.

The stare-down was over, and then, he sighed and you huffed, dramatically turning on your heels and sticking your chin high up in the air, promptly ignoring the dizziness that came from the sudden turn.

You wanted to walk away, and fast. These kinds of interactions, although not completely new to you, weren't your thing, and always ended up leaving you feeling flustered.

At times, very rarely, people would make eye contact with you, maybe a particular observant teacher passing out exams, or an old lady asking for directions, and they would be shocked briefly when they stared into your flashing eyes. The realization that intensity and determination could take form and be so visible to other people, leaving them winded. Of course, in turn, their reactions would open the door to your thirst to prove yourself, to your hidden cravings for attention and admiration.

You wanted to prove yourself, yes, especially to people like Iwaizumi, but not like this, not when you could barely walk due to hunger and your new pounding headache.

You needed to get out of here, but when Iwaizumi's hand shot out to grab your wrist yet again, you halted in your steps.

"What do you think you're doing?" You hissed at him, turning around to face him with another dizzyingly fast turn. He raised a tentative brow at that, and you ignored him with another huff.

"Are you okay?"

"My lawyer tells me not to answer that, sorry. Now let me go."

"Are you okay, Nakata-san?" he repeated, his hand still warm on your wrist. You stopped for a moment, looked into his eyes, and then dropped them to the floor again.

"I'm Iwaizumi Hajime," he said. "And you can have my sandwich."

You didn't like to look vulnerable, that wasn't something you did, but for a brief moment, you wondered if you could really accept this sandwich.

That brief moment of yours, however, was enough for him make the decision for you. The sandwich was pushed into your hand, and almost as if in response, your stomach grumbled loudly.

That was your second proper interaction with Iwaizumi Hajime, and in the two months before Oikawa would even acknowledge you, a steady yet odd friendship would develop between the two of you. A friendship that hinged on him providing you with various sandwiches at lunchtime.


	4. Days gone by

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elementary years   
> Nakata Y/n, nine years old   
> Iwaizumi Hajime, ten years old  
> Oikawa Tooru, ten years old

Why did everyone think you loved yourself too much? And how was it really anything that concerned them in any way? Yes, you liked to hold your head high, you liked to spend time with yourself, and yes, admittedly, the best conversation you had ever had, had been with yourself, but how was any of that wrong? And how was any of that too much?! Seriously, did they even know how amazing you really were? No, they hadn't seen anything yet...

People, you were soon forced to learn, just didn't like you. In fact, even as a nine year-old, you found yourself hard pressed to find people who did like you. They thought you to be an arrogant girl with no manners, and since you were more concentrated on what was going on in your life at home, your behavior gave the kids and many others the impression that you just didn't care enough about their opinions of you as well. To them, you were just the small wild-looking girl who had too big of an ego only for being a bit smarter than was normal, to them you were the girl who would correct everyone obnoxiously, and who always seemed angry at someone or something. Often, you didn't even have to do anything wrong in order to be branded as that one unpleasant girl. It just happened, and stuck to you. Both teachers and students alike had seemingly banded together in order to make your school experience hell.

Or, at least, that was how you sometimes felt about it. Yes, you knew that on more than one occasion you hadn't been exactly pleasant, but other than that, when you did upset people, you just didn't possess the faculties to know how and why. When you corrected someone, even the teacher at times, blatantly saying that they were wrong, you didn't understand why anyone would be angry about that.

If anything, you expected that anger to be directed at themselves and not at you... Simply put, you just didn't understand, and your lack of understanding led to many unpleasant situations.

The other day, after you had been assigned to a group, and told that the three of you were supposed to solve an array of math problems, another incident arose, one that once again painted you as the bad guy. The three of you had looked at each other awkwardly for a minute or two, and then one of them, the tall lanky boy with mouse brown hair and long arms, reached forward and copied one third of the problems onto his own paper. "I'll do these. You two can do these." He pointed at the remaining problems, and after that, no more words were spoken until the end.

You would have another whole day to finish the problems, but you were finished in a little under ten minutes. The girl, the one with the big purple glasses whose name you were sure was something somewhat western sounding, also finished earlier than most oft he others. The two of you still had to wait for the boy, who ten minutes before the end of the lesson also finished with a flourish. You could tell by his pink cheeks and the way his protruding ears flushed slightly, that he wasn't happy about being beaten by two girls.

"You were so fast. Are you sure you all did it right? We have to present them tomorrow, so let's go over them." His words were cold, and he was sneering at the girl with the glasses, while ignoring you. Purple Glasses was known for being bad at many subjects, you knew.

"Alright," you said, calmly. But there was a dangerous twinkle in your eyes, one that would later on in your life be associated with your anger at ignorant boys.

The three of you went through all the problems together in the next lesson, and it was as if it was a competition to see who was the best. All three of you wanted to be the one with no mistakes. In the end, to no one's great surprise, it was you who really had done everything correctly.

Purple Glasses had been fast, and while she had solved most of her problems correctly, her sloppiness had caused her to make a few mistakes. Lanky Arms would let out mean laughs whenever mistakes of hers were discovered, and you said nothing.

When it came to Lanky Arms, it turned out that he was the worst. Similarly to Purple Glasses, he was sloppy, but unlike her, he was also lazy. And not good at math, and at remembering the correct procedures. You had to correct almost every one of his problems, all the while ignoring the looks of displeasure he sent your way.

You were half way done when he suddenly snatched the pen out of your hand. Blinking, you halted all movement, and looked up at the boy without saying a word. You really didn't want another fight.

"If you're so good why don't you do it yourself!" Part of you wanted to say that you were already doing it yourself, but you stopped yourself just in time. You smiled, friendly.

You didn't blink at his cruel words, not even when he continued to call you a useless ugly girl, you just said that you would start immediately, solving whatever problems he wanted you to. Your fists stayed firmly by your sides, and yet, your words did more damage than they ever could. That answer of yours, as your answers often were, was spoken in an arrogant tone, and there was something condescending there, something that made the boy feel as though you were looking down on him (you were), as if you were speaking to him in a scornful manner. It made him angry, and it didn't take long for him to shout at you until the teacher came to take you outside.

Purple Glasses had come to the boy's defence, despite the fact that he had been the one humiliating her and not you, saying that your arrogance and meanness was intolerable. You didn't understand that then, and it had taken you a couple of years to truly understand this moment.

In that moment, the insults of the boy who she knew to be not as good as her in math, meant little. She thought herself smarter, and so the words of the dumber one meant next to nothing. She was more offended by your very existence, and the fact that you were smarter, better, and that everyone knew it, too.

So, blaming you was easier. Thinking back, you understood her very well, but that didn't make the situation any less uncomfortable at the time.

You were just lonely at school, and while not completely lonely in life, as a lot had changed in the last few years and you could no longer say that Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru were just people you occasionally interacted with -- it was still something that affected your soul in various ways.

But they, of course, were making it better, even if that was something you were often hard pressed to admit. Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime were now your friends, your best friends. Your only friends, too, for that matter, but who cared about the details, really?

Not you, and not Sauron, so no one of importance.

With that friendship of yours came a feeling of warmth and tenderness that could really only be described as the feeling of friendship itself, as annoying as it was. Additionally, these friends of yours were also there so that you could say goodbye to the endless hours of loneliness, and the silence that had haunted your life up until that point. Whether the disappearance of the latter was entirely positive, you still weren't sure.

You were evolving with them, your rough edges were slowly being smoothed out, and you were learning to understand people better. Friendship did that to you.

With Iwaizumi, you felt as though he was the one who understood you the most. He was your shelter from the storm, the storm which was more often than not caused by you anyway. You understood him, and because you were real and open with him, he was able to understand you, at least to some extent, too.

With Oikawa, while he was just as much your friend as Iwaizumi, it was somewhat different. You knew why, of course, and you knew that your relationship with him would continue changing, because you hadn't yet fully figured him out like you had Iwaizumi. Figuring out who people really were took time, with Iwaizumi it had taken you maybe two years, but it would take even more time to figure out someone who was trying to impress you. And that was exactly the case with Oikawa.

You were sure that in some ways, they thought similar things about your friendship. While you weren't like Oikawa, trying to impress someone and therefore only showing the better sides, you were living a life shrouded in secrecy.

They knew little about your life at home, why you often came to school without food, why your clothes were so baggy and rundown, why you never talked about your mother or father, and why you hated so very much, despite your apparent love for attention, to be called out on your brilliant tendencies. They knew nothing about all of this, but perhaps that was the essence of strengthening friendship.

Finding out, learning, understanding and finally accepting.

Maybe it was like a game in which every time you learned something about each other, you were allowed to advance a step, and because of the step, something in the game would change, become clearer.

So, whenever you told them about what was going on in your school life, about Purple Glasses and Lanky Arms, and how the teacher reacted to you, they would listen, and understand, not in the way they would have a year or so ago, but in a way that showed that they had learned about who you were.

"Each of us narrates our life as it suits us, Iwa-chan. I'm no different." You had once admitted to them, and because of that, they were able to understand that while the other kids hadn't been pleasant, there had been a certain maliciousness in your actions that day as well.

This understanding on their part had shifted something between the three of you, faintly, yes, but the change was palpable.

You had a something malicious in you, they understood this. You knew how to truly wound with words, and while this was a weapon they knew many people possessed, Oikawa included, your blinding anger would often stop you from filtering. That was why those capacities of yours were so very dangerous, and often at the forefront of their minds.

Especially for Iwaizumi, who had not too long ago gotten to know this mean streak of yours more intimately.

It had happened in a somewhat unexpected way.

Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi understood that you were someone who wanted to desperately devote yourself to something, similar to the way the two of them had from an early age devoted themselves to Volleyball. 

And while you would often deny this, talk about how that was something you would never want, they were now better at detecting those lies of yours.

"To devote yourself to volleyball that much... it means you're either stupidly serious, or seriously stupid. I can't figure it out with you, though." You had once said to Oikawa, and while at the time, the two of them had believed you, thinking that you truly thought their dedication was something fickle, they now, almost a year later, knew better.

You wanted to share in the dedication to this sport that they exhibited, but something inside you prevented you from doing that. Something inside you just couldn't deal with it.

Your response to that inability was to try and be the best at everything without any form of commitment. What you wanted was for people to look at you and think that you were good at everything, with no weaknesses or shortcoming, and with no preference towards one thing.

So, when Iwaizumi for example showed an ample amount of interest in history, you had begun to study history before he even got his lessons at school. Whatever anyone in your surroundings was interested in on an intellectual level, you would quickly make your new goal, your new experiment to test the confines of your ability to learn faster and better than anyone else.

You had learned so much about their interests, at times they hadn't even thought about them, maybe during the holidays when they relaxed and went to exciting places with their families, you had studied, alone in your room, eager to eat up all the knowledge you could in order to be on top. To be better than them at what interested them.

Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi would notice this behavior, but sometimes it was just so hard to put their thoughts about you and what you did into words. Would you always do the things they were supposed to be doing? In a way that proved you to be better than them? Were you doing this in order to surpass everyone? And why were you feeling the need to do such a thing?

They wondered at times if you ever saw them lagging behind you, on the precipice of being left behind by your swirling and ever changing thoughts.

They wondered, but when Iwaizumi had brought it up to you, he had been stung by your meanness as you said, with the cold tone that came easily to you, "I can't help it that I'm good at things. Some people just have to be the best."

Never did you say you wanted to be the best, rather that it was something you needed to be, and the way you sounded when these words left your chapped lips made it appear to him as if this was a primal need for you. The way you had hurt him would then be forgotten, replaced instead by a deep worry for you and your well-being.

Were you even okay? Or were they missing something extremely dark in your life? 

Of course, you in turn would catch on to this worry of theirs, and devise a simple yet efficient plan to throw them off your back. With your laughter, sweet and soft, light as a feather, bubbling up inside you, filling you and most importantly them with light as it broke free, you were able to dismiss their worries.

A laugh that said you were fine, but behavior that screamed the opposite.

How were they at age ten supposed to know about the complexity of mind that plagued you?


	5. Y/n wishes she never spoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elementary years   
> Nakata Y/n, six years old   
> Iwaizumi Hajime, eight years old  
> Oikawa Tooru, eight years old

Oikawa Tooru had to be a really smart person, you thought. He was one of those few people who realized how loud facial expressions really could be. He realized this, and was able to use it. In this sense, you knew, he was similar to you. For you, quite simply, there were equations and patterns and clues everywhere and, you just couldn't stop yourself; you were a thinker, someone who analyzed and came to conclusions, someone who needed only her greatest weapons — her eyes — to do so. So, you too looked at people and were able to tell what they wordlessly saying.

Unlike him though, you didn't really occupy yourself with creating an image other people cared for, not having the desire to be liked for something that wasn't you. You wanted attention, admiration and all the positive things you could think of — but you wanted them to come to you naturally. Because you deserved them.

There would be no 'fake it till you make it' on your part, that was something you just couldn't do. You were too real, and obsessed with that reality of yours, as well.

If anything, people like Oikawa, those who oh so effortlessly were able to wield a fake smile, scared you. You weren't like them, and had never intended to be.

But, at the very moment, as the night darkened around you, the shadows of the trees dancing on the familiar neighborhood streets and the feeling of the cool evening washing over you, you wished that you too could fake a smile like they could. You wanted to smile the same way your classmates did at the prospect of going home for the weekend on this warm Friday evening.

From the students chatting excitedly beside you on the way home came the music of laughter, the melody of giggles and the shouts of joy that sent shivers up your spine in want.

Emotions of a nature other than anger were and always had been something somewhat alien to you, and admittedly, you barely understood what they were feeling and why they were acting the way they were — and yet, you wanted exactly what they had. You wanted it so badly that you could feel tears slowly rolling down your cheeks.

Why you didn't know, but maybe that was a whole other issue on its own, the fact that you just weren't born with the faculties to understand how to relate to people. No matter how much you knew about the people you watched, you weren't like Oikawa, who was able to be analytical, and yet, unlike you, not so detached from the emotions everyone else felt.

You walked slowly, trotting really, skin caressed by the cool air, and feeling how your tears continued to slowly fall — drop after drop hitting the concrete beneath your worn out shoes.

You cried silently — thinking about how unfair the world was, and how you wanted to be like Oikawa, and how you never wanted to go home again, and how you wanted to understand and feel — really, there was no end to your list of wants.

You cried, because crying was how you understand yourself best. Crying was how you felt the most, and while all of what you felt wasn't nice, it was still something, something that helped you stay rooted to the world. When you cried, you thought that you had an inkling about who you really were. Never had you cried out of weakness, no, crying to you was a means to an end — strong, because it brought you understanding, but at the same time, like many strengths, it had the ability to turn into a weakness. And that was why you never cried when anyone was watching, because just like crying brought understanding to you, seeing you cry would bring understanding about you to someone else — and you wanted no one to ever understand you. That was your strength as the smartest person in every room you entered.

This time, despite being the smartest person you knew, you had underestimated both Oikawa and how much one is changed by the presence, be it even at a considerable distance, of a friend. That was your mistake, and it led to the beginning of a friendship between you and Oikawa Tooru, a friendship that would always make you question the very way of the world. It was the friendship with your biggest ally and nemesis in the later years of your life.

"Yahoo!" a voice came from behind you. "Y/n-chan!"

It was him, of course. Oikawa wore a cheerful smile and gave you a peace sign. He didn't comment on your tears, so you didn't bother hiding them, opting instead to raise a cynical eyebrow at him, the boy who despite never really having had a proper conversation with you, was calling you 'y/n-chan' while ambushing you on your way home.

"What is it?"

"I feel good today," he answered, slowing his pace so that he could walk beside you. You turned your head, watching him, and as you did so, the sun illuminated his face, casting odd shadows on his features that made him look all too funny.

You half giggled, half snorted at the sight.

Clearing your throat, you looked straight ahead again, your face void of emotions. "That's nice," you deadpanned.

"Why are you walking with me?"

He shrugged.

You gave up after that, and no longer bothered to even attempt to get some answers out of him, you would keep just keep your mouth shut.

The two of you walked in relative silence, and while Oikawa wasn't really quiet like you were, he said nothing or only something that amounted to nothing. The two of you just walked, enjoying the last of the evening sun.

Why he was beside you, you didn't know, and admittedly, yes, you didn't care enough to find out, but his presence wasn't disturbing. Whether it was a good thing or not, you found that you couldn't cry in his presence.

You would have to wallow in self pity some other time, you thought. 

As it turned out the next day, that would prove harder than initially expected, as Oikawa had gotten it into his head that him walking you home was now the new 'norm'.

That was how you started properly interacting with Oikawa Tooru, and while at the time, you weren't too happy at the prospect of having someone walk you home, it was something that would bring you much joy in your later school years.

When the two of you reached your house, Oikawa opened his mouth to speak to you once more, but then, as he blinked, you were already gone, without a goodbye. The rain started shortly after.

That had been it for that meeting. 

Oikawa was unsettling, you were sure of that now. Unsettling, like seeing Sauron with a pink manicure.

━━━━┅━━━

She wore a pale dress with pink rosebuds, and the stains on the dress combined with her dark unkempt hair, the circles under her eyes and the smeared red lipstick, only enhanced the wild look she had about her. You swallowed thickly, stepping inside the kitchen and carefully closing the door behind you.

The sight of the cigarette protruding from her mouth, the one filling the house with a mucky, run-down smell, made you scrunch up your nose.

When she heard you and turned to look, she blew out some more smoke, aggressively puffing on her cigarette.

You stared at the woman, taking everything in, before approaching her slowly. A series of coughs escaped her, and when she looked back up again, you could see that her chin was red from her cheap lipstick.

Neither she nor you said anything, and the room was engulfed in an eeery sort of silence, nothing to be heard save for the soft splatter of rain coming from outside. Briefly, you wondered if Oikawa had made it home safely, but you quickly shook the thought out of your head. You didn't have time for that now.

You neared her, and knelt down at your mother's feet, clenching your eyes shut and trying to ignore her raised brow. She continued smoking, looking down at you impatiently, clicking her tongue every now and then. 

"What do you want?" She was the first to break the silence, her tone clipped and her words to the point.

"I don't want to go to him today. Please don't make me."

The warmth, light, and general feeling of the kitchen that once had relaxed you so, was gone, replaced by something dark and ominous that sent shivers up your spine. You eyed the bouquet of tiny white chrysanthemums lying on the table, and then the dark drawn curtains, and how the wind still battered against the glass.

It was horrible here. You hated it.

With the look she sent you, you wished you hadn't spoken.

"Go."

And so, you went, and as you trudged up the stairs, bracing yourself for what was to come when you entered the accursed room, you felt a spark of anger that was all too familiar. Anger that led to the determination only you possessed.

Back then, you couldn't properly formulate what you were thinking and what you meant with your thoughts, but now you knew, and you made an effort to live by it, too: you refused to take away from your own power to add it to his. Fuck giving. You were a taker, and the world was yours for the taking.


	6. Fire on fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitagawa Daiichi  
> Junior High

One of the worst curses of the tragically brilliant was the inevitable fate of coming to a wrong conclusion. For a human, especially a brilliant one who on average came to conclusions far more often than someone who wasn't brilliant, this was a fate not easily avoided. More conclusions meant more wrong conclusions, and this applied even to you, Nakata Y/n, who now, at age thirteen, as a second year student at Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High, was coming to a whole new conclusion about how very wrong you had been about primary aspects of your life.

You had been wrong, and not just wrong in the sense that you had messed up one of your complex math events in your life as something that it wasn't. It was a wrong that you wouldn't ever be able to right. 

All your life, you had looked at your father, and had seen in him the reason for your misery. In your mind, it had always been him, and maybe that had stopped you from seeing her, your Mother, as the one standing above him pulling the strings.

Now that your father was gone, you were really able to see that although his madness haunted you, he had never been a cruel man. All the times you had spent crying over your 'sessions' with him, you hadn't realized that the man was not to blame for his own insanity.

It was her, and maybe it always had been as well.

Your Mother had grown up a proper lady in a small household that could hardly ever provide enough for them, a proud family of six. Despite their lack of money and status, everything revolved around keeping up appearances. Your Mother had truly suffered as a child, which resulted in an unhealthy skinny physique as an adult, and moreover, a dangerous mindset.

She was only eighteen when she met your father, who at the time was twenty-two, and already making somewhat of a name for himself. Your father was a genius, and everyone at the time said that it was only a matter of time before one of his mathematical theories became the next big thing. 

It was not a marriage of love, at least not on your Mother's side, but did that really matter as long as your father never found out? It was a marriage based solely on the expectations of your Mother, who wanted to live a life of luxury after having been forced to live under the pretense of one for almost her entire life.

In the beginning, things worked out splendidly, but your Mother was too cold, too cruel, to deal with the fragile feelings of an emotional genius like your father. So, when the time came, and everything in your father's life collapsed, not gradually, but all at once, your Mother helped only to drive him further to the very brink of insanity.

Had this been her intent? No, if anything, the opposite was she was stuck with the very last thing she wanted: a burden that wasn't allowing her to live the life she had always dreamed of.

But to your Mother's credit, she didn't leave your father and you, who were only five at the time, no, she settled down in a much smaller house, and announced that the three of you would be getting through this all together.

This was where you came in. As your father descended further and further into the depths of insanity, your Mother expected you to help him, to make him realize his genius and regain his place in the world. She had hoped that you, with your own genius, would be able to get your father back on his

That was what your 'sessions' were. On a normal day, your father was locked in his bedroom, never allowed to descend the stairs until he was able to transcend his madness, and you were forced, after school, to climb up those dreaded stairs, and spend time with him in his room.

Maybe it didn't sound terrible, but spending time with someone who was truly far gone, at such a tender age, was something that affected your own mental state. When you entered the room, your father would be sprawled out on the floor, lying amidst his papers, and then he would greet you, looking up at you with those terrifying crazy eyes of his.

He would make you sit next to him, scream at you about his ideas, shake your small shoulders when you didn't understand something, and for you to read.

It didn't matter to him that you were crying next to him, he Mother. He loved her still.

That love was not returned, and that became so very clear when you entered Junior High, and your mother decided that there was no getting better for your father, and that you were now her only hope.

She left him, easily, and took you with her, too, so that you would never have to see that man again. For a time, you even forgotten that she was the one who had forced you to spend time with your father in the first place. You forgot that your father had only complied.

You forgot all that, until your new life with your Mother started. A small, yet pristine apartment, finally enough food for you, constant violin lessons, a curfew that

You spent time with your Mother like you had never before, and you learnt, among other things, about how she viewed the world. Little by little, her poison seeped into your bones, and it was something that you, with your intellect, were able to notice, too.

You became paranoid, hating the similarities to your Mother that you saw in yourself. You would stand in front of the mirror at times, and all you saw was your skin cracking, and her, your mother, exploding out of your body with that familiar glare of hers. You would scream at your reflection in the mirror then, over and over again, but no one was there to hear your cry.

It became more and more clear. Something in you was broken.

And your Mother was the cause. While using you, she was injecting you with a deathly poison that you had noticed only when it was already too late.

The way you found out that your Mother was the cause of your newfound misery, was truly tragic. Every single change she made in your life had only led you to a never ending road of unhappiness. It was something that you would never forget.

One day your Mother came to school when you were in your second year and Iwaizumi and Oikawa were in their third. She came to talk, not to you, but to one of your friends.

Oikawa Tooru.

She made it appear like a coincidence, telling him how she was looking for you at school, and how you hadn't come home yet. It was late, she said to him, and she was oh so worried.

Later on, when he told you of this incident, Oikawa wouldn't admit it, but he was flattered that your mother knew him by name and face. 

He disliked her, yes, as it was his job to dislike everyone you disliked, but he told himself that he would listen to what your Mother said about you for you, and only for you, but he didn't understand how all of this was something your Mother had planned. To him, she talked in a way that made her seem like a light in your life; a light that condemned the darkness that was your father.

Oikawa listened and because her words were so sweet, so loving, and because she talked about you with such love, he couldn't help but think that maybe you were wrong about your Mother, maybe you didn't know the way she loved you.

Your Mother went on to talk to him about you, about how intelligent you were, how pretty you would one day be. He liked that, hearing those nice things about you, but he liked it even more when she went on to say how important he was to you, and how it was going to be him who saved you one day. He would never hear these words from you, so hearing them from someone who was close to you felt... nice.

At the time, he didn't really understand that you actually despised even the very idea of you needing a savior in any aspect of your life.

But your Mother's words were dipped in honey, she made him forget which role she played in your life. Even as she talked about how you were abrasive and rebellious by nature, she added that if things didn't go your way, you would become cruel and rude. She said to Oikawa that he was very educated and smart, and that he probably knew all this already, and that she would need his help in containing you.

Oikawa thought he was helping you, but she was playing him.

And when you learned of this, you understood your Mother better than ever, and that this was now a game of manipulation between the two of you. You also, admittedly somewhat unreasonably, felt that Oikawa had betrayed you.

You would always be a little too much of everything, that was in your very nature, and this time, that resulted in your anger at your friend who didn't really deserve it.

In your mind, he had betrayed you, so you would betray him in turn by using one of his many weak spots that you knew well by now.

This particular weak spot of his took the form of a certain dark-haired first year.

━━━━┅━━━

"ARE YOU KAGEYAMA Tobio?" you asked the boy in front of you, a small bored smile playing on your lips. The boy said nothing in response, just staring at you with big wide eyes.

"I'm Nakata Y/n, second year, I'm supposed to help you with your math homework," you prompted, somewhat impatiently.

The boy stared at you.

"You're the Captain's friend," he blurted out, causing your left eye to twitch slightly.

"I suppose I've been called worse," you mumbled to yourself, staring, somewhat skeptically at the boy in front of you.

The black hair, the tall height, the parted lips and the innocent expression of slight awe that settled on his face when you (sort of) confirmed your friendship with the captain.

This was the kid Oikawa felt so very intimidated by?

You stared at him some more, then you gulped, knowing you would have your work cut out for you.

You couldn't just quit now, despite the fact that no teacher had assigned you to this first year. It had actually just been your own lust for revenge that had done so.


	7. One More Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitagawa Daiichi  
> Junior High

"Why are you here, Nakata-san?" The boy asked, blinking at you with his big wide eyes. You could tell by the way his movements were slightly slower than usual that he was tired. Very tired, you thoughts as the dark-haired boy yawned loudly. Today had been an important day for his volleyball career. You had heard from Iwaizumi that the coach had especially singled him out amongst the first years to be the replacement for Oikawa in case anything ever happened.

You were sure nothing would, of course, and you sure Kageyama knew that too, but it was still a very notable achievement for a first year.

You were proud of him, and so you smiled, widely and freely, so much that your cheeks hurt. Kageyama tended to have this effect on you, so that you found yourself just being happy in his presence. Without wasting too much time, you sat down next to him in the bus, keeping your eyes glued to his with that bright smile Kageyama was not yet fully accustomed to. He slightly tilted his head to the side, watching you.

"You played really well today, I heard," you said softly, reaching up a hand to ruffle the younger boy's head. The boy's eyes shone slightly at the mention of that, and unconsciously, he leaned in to your touch. Slightly, and you didn't even notice. Even if you had noticed something, you wouldn't have commented on it. 

Kageyama was open with you, felt comfortable with you — those were little things you had picked up on as you got to know him, and you presumed this sense of security he felt with you had resulted out of you not being particularly demanding when with him. Above all else, Kageyama Tobio didn't appreciate being confronted with things he didn't understand. You would try, for him, and for you, since you found that you quite enjoyed being a source of comfort for somebody, to let go of your at times overly overbearing personality.

"Yes."

"Was it fun?"

"Yes."

"Do you want some milk?"

"Yes."

Smiling, you revealed what you had been previously hiding behind you back: strawberry milk. Maybe not the one he preferred, definitely not the one he drank on a daily basis, but, Tobio realized, as his cheeks reddened slightly, that all that didn't matter if it was from you.

He wasn't good at being friends, he just didn't understand what was expected of him, you knew this, you recognized this in him. You had been the same, you were the same, and so you were determined to be Tobio's Iwaizumi and Oikawa. 

"Are you getting along better with Kunimi- and Kindaichi-san?" Or anyone, really? That was what you wanted to add, but when you noticed the way he averted his eyes, downtrodden, you didn't. Sulkily, he put the straw into the carton, and shook his head.

Huh. Why were you caring about how other people felt?

"Ah, well, it's... Uh, I'm here."

Tobio stared at you, intense, and you were reminded of the fact that he was indeed a volleyball player. Volleyball players always had this kind of intensity, you noticed. But you were not one easily embarrassed, so you stared right back, eyes flashing.

He looked away first, nodding softly. 

"You're making new friends, Senpai," he said after a brief pause, looking out of the window. You didn't notice the smile on his face, too focused on internally grumbling about being called 'senpai'.

"Yeah, I think," you answered, lost in thought, thinking about your old friends, your younger friend Tobio, and your new friends. And all that happened in such a brief amount of time.

Towards the end of your second year, and Iwaizumi's and Oikawa's third year, you were in the motion of transitioning from a skinny wild girl to someone capable of demanding everyone's attention just by your very presence. It was a bad time for you, a confusing time, for you and for many of the girls, who didn't understand, why a girl like you, who really was not pretty yet, could attract so much attention. Without noticing it, too. 

It was all about action and reactions, you thought. Once upon a time, you had tried so hard through physical actions, to cause a ripple of reaction, but now, as something within you started acting, the reactions came of their own accord, and there was really no more need to work as hard as you once had. You no longer had to go through life angrily demanding attention, and silently, wordlessly, begging for acknowledgement.

You yourself didn't know what to think of this new change; your friends, your first friends, on the other hand, were pretty decided, and for once, you were not particularly displeased with them for it.

Oikawa, for one, hated the attention you were suddenly receiving with a passion, and he voiced this petty opinion of his far too often. You weren't angry at him for it (surprisingly), but you were getting tired of it. 

Oikawa knew that he didn't dislike the attention you were receiving because he was jealous; no, there was nothing to be jealous about, he was far more popular, better looking too, and besides, he was sure that he didn't like you that way. He wasn't in love with you. Pfft, of course not. It was Iwaizumi, he would think, who loved you, and not him. Definitely not him, never him. He liked all those pretty girls who cheered him on during matches much more than you, who most of the time just couldn't be bothered to watch him play (and when you did show up, you would secretly have a book open on the floor so that you could read while pretending to be watching attentively).

Despite that, he still didn't like it, how suddenly all those kids, those boys, who had once treated you with distain, were suddenly so interested in you. They didn't have crushes on you, no, you weren't pretty in their eyes, but they wanted to talk to you, merely because they found your words had power. And they liked the way your eyes would shine, determination all too visible, all too blinding.

It was annoying, he thought. And all too familiar. He clearly remembered walking you home after school all those years in elementary, he remembered how he too had done the talking at first, and how when you were comfortable enough to start talking, it then was him who hung on your every word.

He didn't want that to happen to others, the three of you, the trio that you were as of now, was perfect. Kageyama, the annoying brat, who was already taking so much of your attention nowadays, was bad enough. Oikawa quite liked sulking about this.

He wasn't the only one who thought this way, but where Oikawa was verbal about his dislike, Iwaizumi usually just watched, not really up for complaining too much. 

Iwaizumi was down-to-earth, and brutally honest with everyone, and he had his flaws like everyone else. He couldn't easily talk about the things that bothered him, especially when they were about you. When his feelings were hurt, when he was in a hard place, he never mentioned it, never implied that he too, at times, needed to be taken care of.

That meant, when he noticed how suddenly, the lanky boy, and other kids that had once grumbled about you, were now conversing normally with you as if you had always been a friend of theirs, he reacted, yes, but he reacted in a way that made sure his real feelings would never be on display.

In return, this caused you, who was going through a period of time where your self esteem was practically nonexistent, to think that all this mattered little to him. It was only through the small things, that you could only notice over a prolonged period of time, that you realized how Iwaizumi cared for you, and how he acted when he was bothered.

It was the soft touches for him, it was the way he would carry your bag and his own, the way he would fondly place his warm hand on your head and leave it there, it was the way he would straighten your uniform with a seemingly annoyed 'tsk', the way he would up the number of wrist grabs in a day, and the way he would pull you to his side more often than what you were accustomed to.

Yes, Iwaizumi didn't like talking about feelings, but compared to Oikawa, who talked about his feelings way too often (just not honestly), he wasn't nearly as good at not showing how he felt. Where Oikawa had mastered fake smiles, flirty winks, and playful jabs to avoid topics he would rather not engage in, Iwaizumi, maybe even similarly to you, was far too real for that.

You knew this, but at the same time, you didn't. You knew what their reactions to your actions meant, and yet, you weren't able to fully comprehend them. This time, the end of Junior High, was just too confusing for you.

Some periods of growth were just exactly that, so confusing that you didn't even realize that your out of bounds emotions were a direct result of change. You knew that you cried more than usual, you knew that you were much softer than usual, and you knew that you were feeling more depressed than usual, but you were not able to connect it to the process of growing up, of changing, of evolving. You would only understand later, after your change, that at the moment of your confusion, you had been undergoing a rapid change. One that had been preparing you for your future.

━━━━┅━━━

You were lost in your own world, something akin to happiness dancing on the tips of your fingers. There was just something special about this place, something that drew you in, and forced you, on the rare off days that you had, to spend unspeakable amounts of time here. The library, full of old books with coffee stains, and new books that felt strangely empty without the dog ears and scribbled notes of a once struggling reader.

You always spent hours here, with numerous books strewn out on the table in front of you. Never were you here without a goal, there was always something you wanted to achieve. So, when you finished one book after the other, and jumped to the next, it was more out of this need to be the best, imposed by your willingness to prove yourself, than actual interest.

The book you were currently obsessing over, some psychology book you couldn't even name, had been recommended to you by your new teacher. She wasn't a teacher that went to your school, but rather one of the retired teachers your Mother had assigned to you, that seemed much more intent on nursing your intellect than any teachers at your school. 

The woman, who was tall, older than she looked, with dark hair that stuck out in all directions, and a bit of teasing glint in her eye, was a Tokyo native that was supposed to be teaching you how to play the piano, but had instead chosen to secretly talk about books she wanted you to read. 

When you arrived at her home, always on time, every Thursday afternoon, she would let you in, make you some tea, tell you a quick story about her son who, surprise surprise, was a volleyball player, and then she would hand you a book, and tell you to read. That was how you spent your Thursdays. 

She didn't take the money, told you to spend it yourself, and she would lie to your Mother about your progress on the piano. Of course, every now and then, she would teach you how to play something, so that you at least could appease your Mother. It worked, you were a fast learner, and she a efficient liar.

When you asked her why she was doing all of this, she would answer, only vaguely, that she had noticed right away that you were one of the smart ones. She would tell you that you even scared her somewhat, that you had a way with words that could convince people of anything. Once she said that if you told her that the sun was actually circling around the earth and not the other way around, and you used your big words, she would lose all power of judgment she usually possessed. Such was your way with words.

But, she would add, that your lack of real knowledge, of experience, and of empathy, was dangerous, and that it was important for you to read, for you to learn how to formulate your rough, often callow, unhinged words. 

You had a natural gift, but you needed to nurture it. And that was what you were determined to do. So, whenever she gave you a book to read, and whenever you had the time to do so amidst your hectic schedule, you would find yourself in the library, reading more and more and more and more— you just wanted to be filled to the brim with knowledge.

And you told yourself that if you didn't understand something immediately, you would understand it the second time you read over it, or maybe the third, by dint of sheer determination. You would, because you wanted to.

That day, with the psychology book clouding your thoughts, you spent the afternoon writing and rewriting your notes. You wanted to present the concise, clear thoughts you had while reading, and give them power, because as you knew, everything you wrote down, assumed a certain importance. Hours passed by like this, and you weren't even sure what time it was by the time you finally closed the book with a snap. 

You stared down at your work: five handwritten pages in your tiny handwriting, decorated with colors and underlined neatly and clearly, in a way that made perfect sense. Your notes were perfect, neat, and without error, the green lines complementing the pink, the blue lines complementing the yellow.

Satisfied, you let out a happy sigh, breathing in the sweet fragrance of books, the old and the new. You were at peace, happy, and unaware that two exhausted volleyball players were about to walk into the library, annoyed at you for not making it to the previously agreed on meeting spot. 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa walked in, and had you seen them, you would have thought it funny how both of their noses, almost instinctively, scrunched up at the sight of hundreds of books. Books were everywhere, lined up on shelves on all oft he walls, stacked on the floor, and piled on the desk in front of you. You were there, too, but they were too horrified at the sight of all the books surrounding you to really notice you at first.

Simply put, the boys were not readers. And not in any way familiar with libraries.

"Y/n-chan."

You froze at the soft, quiet but nonetheless familiar cheery voice behind you. You flicked your eyes up momentarily, looking over your shoulder. 

Leaning against one of the bookshelves, arms folded across his chest and a small tired smirk planted on his face, was Oikawa, with Hajime beside him, still looking at his surroundings warily. 

"Tooru," you acknowledged him, sending him a small smile. Then, you looked at Iwaizumi, who only grunted at you in greeting. Of course. 

You rolled your eyes, albeit fondly, and smiled at the two of them. "What are you two doing here?"

"You always forget, don't you, Y/n-chan?" Oikawa said teasingly, his mouth stretched wide open into a charming smile. Suddenly, you felt like punching him. 

"Don't look at me like that! You look like a brute when you glare like that, like Iwa-chan— ack!"

With a punch from Iwaizumi, Oikawa was quiet for a few precious seconds, and you turned your gaze from him to your other friend. Strange, you thought, Hajime rarely was one to look so tired...

Oh shit! 

Your eyes went wide, and you clapped your hand in front of your mouth in horror... You had completely forgotten. Tomorrow was the big day, wasn't it? One look at Iwaizumi confirmed it, and you cursed under your breath, immediately gathering up all your books and throwing them into your backpack.

You needed to be there for them now. Tomorrow was the big day, the last big day in Junior High, really. 

"Y/n -chan, you remember now?" Oikawa said, bringing your attention to him once again. You shrugged guiltily. "Of course, I remember," you mumbled grumpily as the two of you walked out of the library together. You had spared only a brief moment to tidy up the library table.

Iwaizumi shot you a look, the look. You gulped. "Let's walk home?"

They said nothing in return, they didn't need to. Of course, the three of you would walk home together now. Iwaizumi's hand roughly shoved your head back though as he passed you, administering your silent punishment for forgetting to visit their practice like you had promised. 

You glared at his back for messing up your hair, before sniffing, and catching up to the two of them. They had long legs, you didn't, it was unfair, really.

"Shiratorizawa, eh?" You piped up awkwardly, nudging Oikawa with your shoulder. "You'll beat them, of course!"

They said nothing, and the three of you continued walking in silence. You could tell though, by the smiles they were trying to hide, that they were grateful. You were being much nicer than usual, you had even agreed to come to the game tomorrow, and everything was starting to look really good.

They had a real chance of beating Shiratorizawa tomorrow. But they were still silent, and they were still unsure. You wanted to help.

Always, whenever the three of you walk home together, it was Iwaizumi who you had to say goodbye to first. He needed to take a left at the broken tree, but both you and Oikawa would still have to continue to go down a couple of streets after that.

"Oi, Shittykawa. Get some rest. Don't stare at Ushiwaka's face when you're lying in bed. That's creepy."

"Yeah, Tooru, that's creepy," you echoed cheekily, making the two older boys roll their eyes you. 

The two of them did their weird manly high-five, and you looked away, giving them their privacy. You weren't one to butt into their volleyball talk, and really, were you really needed in this conversation?

Hajime ruffled your hair one more time, before turning away, and walking away, one hand raised in farewell. Both you and Oikawa stared at your friend as he continued walking away.

And then, a thought struck you, and it was a weird one, a thought that was very much unlike you. But, it was a weird time, and tomorrow would be a weird day, too. So, why not?

"Hajime!" You called after him, surprising both of the boys. "Eh, Y/n-chan?" Oikawa, beside you, asked with a tilt of his pretty head.

You ran up to Hajime before either could react and ensnared his waist in a surprise hug. You hid your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar earthy smell, and he, holding you, couldn't contain the blush that spread across his face. He returned the embrace, of course, bringing his nose to your hair, while he almost crushed you in his arms. "Good luck tomorrow," you whispered, and while you were so very embarrassed of yourself for being so touchy, you couldn't help but hold him closer when he replied with a gruff 'thanks'.

You stayed like this for a few more moments, and then he chuckled, loosening his grip, and gestured to Oikawa with his chin. "Go now."

You nodded, and in an attempt to flee before Hajine could notice that you too were embarrassed by this whole thing, you turned on your heels in a flurry, dashing back to Oikawa who was staring at you with wide eyes.

"What?" you snapped at him, flushing hotly. His lips merely curled up into a smirk as a reply, causing you to roll your eyes. But you failed to notice the silent hurt in his eyes, as the two of you continued on walking together. In silence.

When it was time for the two of you to part ways as well, you stood in front of the much taller boy awkwardly, playing with your fingers. 

He looked down at you, a soft smile on his face. 

"You too. Good luck. I know you can do it," you mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes. This was all too mushy for you.

"Y/n-chan. I'm hurt. Iwa-chan gets a dramatic hug, and this is all I get?"

When you tilted your head upwards with a sigh, ready to scold him, you were not so pleasantly surprised by his face that was scarily close to yours. Your faces were no more than ten inches apart, and your lips parted.

Huh?

His breath fanned across your face, and he reached out, tried to touch your cheeks, but you drew back. He wasn't trying to kiss you, that much you knew, but this was still new territory for you.

"Tooru..."

He stopped short. And you sighed, placing your small warm hands on his shoulders. You looked up into his warm chocolate eyes, smiled, and then drew him in for a hug as well. Hugging Iwaizumi was familiar, hugging Oikawa was new, and to him, it was a warm gesture that stopped his heart for a moment.

"Everything's okay, Y/n-chan," he finally breathed out, and you nodded, finally able to believe him. He smelled good, too, you noticed. Different, but good.

Things were good between the two of you, things were as perfect as they could be, and as you watched him continue on his way home, his brown hair flopping with every step he took, you wondered if things would be like this tomorrow, too. After the match against Shiratorizawa.

Maybe you were naive to think like that, because of course, wherever you went, no matter how nice it was at first, disaster would soon follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you so much for choosing to read this book! It really means a lot to me... And if you enjoyed it, please comment and tell me what you thought!


	8. A Snap, A Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitagawa Daiichi  
> Junior High

"And you," he seethed, taking two large steps towards you so that he was directly in front of you, towering over you. For a moment, you wondered if he wanted you to pretend to be intimidated, but you shrugged off the idea. "What?"

"Why the hell did you cheer for them?! Why couldn't you just—"

"I cheered whenever someone scored. I was enjoying the game," you said defensively, giving him a shrug and a glare. You understood that he was angry, he had, after all, lost to them yet again, but you wouldn't allow him to drag you down with him. What had happened to the Tooru from yesterday?

"Iwa-chan and I are your best friends! How could you just— you know how much this means to us!" His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving up and down. 

Oikawa Tooru had lost, once again, to Shiratorizawa. And while theoretically his whole team had lost as well, more than anyone else, he had lost.

"That's why I came to the game. To support you. And nowstaring into his eyes. As usual, the intensity in your eyes made Oikawa pause, think about his next words, and wonder if this was right. But, at this moment, he was just too mad. He didn't back down.

"You—"

"Are you questioning my loyalty as a friend now, Tooru?"

"Questioning your loyalty?! More like denying its existence! You cheered for Shiratorizawa!"

After that, you had stormed out, picked up your bag from the ground outside of the room, and left, without waiting. You felt sorry for Iwaizumi, and remembered how you had promised that the three of you would walk home together again no matter what, but there was nothing you could do when you felt this way. Strangely, even though you had acted so very cool and unfeeling in front of Oikawa as he was letting out his anger on you, you were now, as you stormed away, feeling the undeniable overwhelming urge to cry.

You wanted to cry, but no tears came out, so you just continued walking, pushing everything down. Deep down, you knew better. You knew that unexpressed emotions didn't just fade, no, they would come out later, during worse times, in uglier ways. But all that didn't matter now, did it? All 

Instead of, or perhaps in addition to, the usual anger that coursed through your veins whenever Oikawa did something like that, you now were enveloped in a sadness that was intent on dragging you further and further down. Your heart felt beaten and butchered, and you found yourself there, like you usually did whenever joy departed and good times ended, in that one familiar spot that you liked to visit whenever you were crying: the hill overlooking the park where you had first met Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru.

The mild air met you in a wave, and you were reminded of the fact that looking down on that little park you had once known so well from this hill, you were always filled with this odd confusion about the world and your place in it, and about Oikawa's place in it beside you. So even though you strongly thought that he had been in the wrong, you felt as though there was some horrible flaw in you - some weird deficiency in your very being, which, for reasons unknown to you, had caused this notable change in your friend.

Yes, it was a change within him, because fights like these, fights that left you questioning who this person really was, were becoming more and more frequent. More and more frequent after you had watched him snap on that one dreaded day. 

A cornered animal was a dangerous one. And were you the one cornering your friend? Or was it Kageyama Tobio? Or was it his very own inferiority complex?

It was not a nice spring evening, but it did feel soft; the clouds up ahead in the distance, the moon—at moments when the moon was visible and not hidden by clouds—was bright, and you knew that when night fell, and the stars came out to play, the moon would shine even more brightly upon this hill.

It was peaceful: you stayed there for hours. And at one point in time, you wondered if it would be okay for you to never leave. What if the ivy surrounded you, held you tight, and made you part of the scenery here?

Of the two people who knew of your hiding place here, it was eventually Iwaizumi who found you, coming to care for you like maybe a brother would. Coming to find you like a lover, coming to check up on you like a friend.

He had been crying, too. And his tears were far more heartbreaking than your unshed tears. He had lost against Shiratorizawa as well. A deep sense of shame enveloped you when he came to find you, to help you, when he too was in need of help. You could count on him to find you, but he couldn't count on you to find him.

He took you into his arms, not saying anything, and then the two of you just sat there, staring at the moon. Later on in life, years from now, you would feel a great sense of deja vu when this happened a second time, under very similar circumstances.

A place like this was a place where you could open up, and Iwaizumi, as he always did with you, listened. He listened to your thoughts about Oikawa, and how you felt that you needed to find a solution to every problem that the three of you encountered or else everything would, like dominoes, fall, one after the other. There would be nothing you could do to stop it once it was set in motion.

Maybe it was mean of Hajime to think the way he did, but at that moment, he was surprised, intimidated even, but also immensely happy, that you could even feel this deeply about something. He had pretended for a long time not to notice how detached you were to feelings, and had, as soon as he was able to be honest with himself, given up his expectations of you ever caring for them the way they did for you.

Being friends quite possibly meant more to them than it would ever mean to you.

But this surprised him, and for some moments, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to react.

"It doesn't matter why you fought," Hajime said, and his gaze shifted, softening slightly. He rubbed at his slightly red eyes, a muscle working along his jaw. "As long as you both apologize."

"Why do I have to apologize?"

"Because you were acting like a brat. On purpose."

At first, you didn't want to, because that would mean admitting you had done something wrong, but when you and Hajime, hand in hand, walked back to find Tooru waiting for the two of you in the usual meeting spot near your school, you let go of your pride and caved.

You, who always had cruel words at the ready for any time they even insinuated you had done something wrong, burst into tears as you apologized profusely, not only for what had happened now but also, it seemed, for the years you had spent by their side as an insufficient friend.

You vowed to change yourself and even forgot what the fight had been about in the first place.

You didn't, however, forget the first fight that had changed everything. 

━━━━┅━━━

The story of your friendship with Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru, which maybe was the greatest achievement and tragedy of your life, was too big of a story to be told. It would need to be written down, you were sure.

And some moments would define your story and would work as a catalyst for future happenings. So, as you thought of your fight with Oikawa, on the day he had lost against Shiratorizawa, you felt as though you could trace it back to one moment. The moment he had snapped and something had changed.

That day, you had watched Oikawa Tooru, truly watched as something in him changed, snapped. In a way, it had been truly fascinating, and part of you had been itching to pick up your notebook to write about what had been happening in front of you. Then again, at the time, you had thought that would be similar to taking photos on a trip, and cause you to miss the moment in real life. So, you hadn't written anything down, you had just watched, as your friend went through one of those moments, moments that you had recognized from books and movies, when a character reacted in an extreme way to the normal happenings of life, and ended up, inexplicably and unavoidably, different. On that day, when Oikawa Tooru had been switched out during the game, replaced by Kageyama Tobio, the genius who had appeared at his back, something in him had changed. You and Hajime had witnessed it, the latter even stepping in to help, as Tooru came undone and tried to harm the first year, that in his mind, was already a monster ready to devour him.

This moment was dangerous. This moment told of a change that was sure to happen, and on the day you fought with Oikawa about Shiratorizawa, you felt as though this suspicion of yours was confirmed.


	9. Cheering Up Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitagawa Daiichi  
> Junior High

On that night with Tobio, strangely, you felt as though it was your job to help Tooru. And you would not help in the way he wanted you to, but rather in the way you felt he needed to be helped, so that you found yourself once again, accompanying home a confused, and slightly scared, Kageyama Tobio.

The boy, you knew, in some form of admiration, felt strongly for Tooru, and this, whether he admitted or not, had hurt him deeply.

You didn't let him out of your sight, so that when both the night and Kageyama's expression continued to darken around you, you stopped to wait for him, and when he reached you, you even gave him your hand. He was reluctant at first, but since he was still so shocked and in desperate need of comforting, he quickly grabbed your hand, a blush coating his cheeks. To you, this gesture was meant to comfort him, nothing more, and admittedly, you didn't think much of hand-holding or hugging, or any of that really. You were just not a touchy person, as you thought that in terms of emotional comfort, no amount of physical contact could hold a candle to a good book. But since you were not stupid, you were well aware of what comforted other people.

Hugging and hand-holding could be nice, of course, but whenever you did, it was a rarity, usually reserved for making the other person, not you, feel better.

This gesture might have been only that for you, but for Kageyama, this gesture changed everything.

The two of you didn't speak again till you reached the station. Then you said 'Come on, sit down. I'll wait with you,' and the two of simultaneously sat down on the bench. You put your hand on his shoulder and said quietly, 'What happened wasn't your fault, but I hope you can find it in your heart not to hate him for it.'

You talked about Oikawa, and only Oikawa, and Tobio couldn't help but briefly wonder if the two of you were in love. A lot of people were in love with Oikawa, he knew. But then, as the two of you continued waiting together, and he was still quietly watching you as you spoke, he realized that no, those were not the eyes of someone in love.

Still, he wondered why you were doing damage control for Oikawa, if not for love. Maybe you weren't in love, but maybe you liked him. Tobio wasn't sure, he was, after all, not really good at things like that.

━━━━┅━━━

The day after, of course, you went to find Tooru. And surprisingly, you found him perched on your spot, on the hill overlooking your childhood. You didn't even have to announce your presence: he was in your spot, there was no doubt that he was expecting you.

"I've been chasing you since this morning," you said, and he didn't even flinch upon hearing your voice. He merely turned his head slightly, gave you a teasing, yet empty smile, and then turned around again. He continued gazing down at the park. It was so green, so peaceful, so different from everything in his head.

"Yeah, I thought we'd switch it up for once, Y/n-chan," he croaked, trying and failing to imitate that usual teasing tone of voice. You rolled your eyes, but drew closer nonetheless, so that you were sitting next to him on the grass. It was cold, but more so the air than the grass, and you told yourself that if you got this conversation over with, you could get back home to— oh wait, there was no heat at home. Well, nevertheless, it was better freezing inside than freezing outside?

You looked at your friend who was still refusing to look at you. You looked hard, with furrowed brows, deep in thought. What were you even supposed to say?

You didn't know, and so you didn't say anything, not until the image of a frightened Tobio flashed before your eyes. That was what you were supposed to say. That was what you were supposed to address.

But the words didn't come out right.

"You're not nice," you said, looking at him, maybe for the first time, as if there was something not quite right about him. Oikawa hated that look, and he had never felt a greater urge to pull you towards him, to wrap you up in his arms and to whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you took that back. He wanted you to think to the world of him, he had always wanted that, but at the same time, he knew the truth about you. He knew that you were someone who always saw meanness where, to his great displeasure, it was sooner or later discovered that meanness really was.

"Hearing this from you, Y/n-chan!" he whined, but he knew it was different. You knew it was different, too.

"Are you stupid, or stupid?" you demanded, turning so that you could stare at your friend more intensely, a haughty glare on your features.

"The second one! Don't you dare call me the first, Y/n-chan! I can't stand that!"

"Stop joking! You could have hurt him!" you finally burst out, and as you did, you realized how afraid you were of even the idea of this happening. Not for Tobio necessarily, but for him, for Tooru. He didn't understand that all this would hurt him more than it would anyone else. 

Tooru finally turned to you, to look at you. You saw that he had been crying, and he saw that you were about to cry. It was a mess, the way his usually playful brown eyes looked at you, watery and slightly swollen. His lower lip was quivering, and you could tell that he was trying his best not to burst into tears.

Despite everything, Oikawa Tooru was still pretty, especially in this light. His rich chocolate curls were now tousled, his long thick eyelashes were now wet against his skin, his unfairly pretty deep brown eyes were now full of feeling, and his pale smooth skin was now flushed from crying.

His brows were furrowed and his mouth was set in a grim frown as he looked at you. You knew that one wrong move from you would make him crumble into pieces.

"I know."

Then, there was silence between the two of you, and you wondered if the two of you were going to sit like this for the rest of the evening. 

It was finally Tooru who broke the silence again.

"Do you think I'm a bad person now, Y/n-chan?"

"No, not really. Good and bad are names for what people do, not what they are. Or at least, that's how I see it," you mused thoughtfully, raising your hand to rake it through your messy hair. You were tired, and aware of his gaze on you, but you opted to continue ignoring it. 

"You can be pretty bad though, Tooru," you added, almost as an afterthought. "And I'm not sure Kageyama deserves that." In fact, you were convinced that he didn't deserve it.

Oikawa too ran a hand through his hair and let out a soft sigh, nodding slightly, as if in acknowledgment.

━━━━┅━━━

Cheering up boys, one after the other, in many different ways, was never something you thought would ever be on your to-do list, but alas, here you were, going through all the boys in your life (not that there were many) to make sure that they were okay. First had been Kageyama, who admittedly needed it most at the moment, and second had been Oikawa, who in the long run, was who would depend on your cheering up more than anyone, and finally, now, it was Iwaizumi's turn who, of course, would argue that he didn't need it. He did need it though, and you noticed that in the way he stood, his back to you, facing the wall with his head down. 

He was shaking, his hands balled into fists and he was breathing deeply, giving you the impression that everything about him was about to light on fire. Everything was tense, and in that moment, he seemed dangerous, even.

"Hajime?" you asked, taking one step forward and carefully placing your hand on his shoulder.

"Were you with that idiot?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"He's fine. I think."

"What about that first year?"

"Kageyama," you corrected.

"How's he?"

"Fine."

"Then, I'm fine too," he grunted, shaking off your hand. But you didn't budge, so that just as he turned around, you took his hand in yours. You pinched him.

"What happened was Tooru being an idiot, okay? It's nothing new, it wasn't the first time, and it most definitely won't be the last."

Your eyes connected, he nodded once, said nothing more, but at least didn't move away from your touch. You watched as he closed his eyes and slowly, hesitantly, leaned into you. 

It was awkward, he was much taller than you, so it was weird to hold him in your arms like that, but he for once didn't care. The two of you just stood like this, with his head on your shoulder, you gripping his other shoulder. 

It was comforting for him in ways you could never even begin to comprehend.

Another boy successfully cheered up...


	10. A day in the life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elementary years   
> Nakata Y/n, ten years old  
> Iwaizumi Hajime, eleven years old  
> Oikawa Tooru, eleven years old

“Papa?” you questioned, eyes wide with a vulnerability few had ever witnessed from you. Thump, thump— the sound of your heartbeat, as you continued staring, tears of trepidation pricking at your eyes. You weren't crying, not really, these tears were just a reflex by now. The man looked up from the newspaper he was reading, unaware of why you were slowly backing away from him, and shot you a wide and seemingly genuine smile.

"Yes, darling?"

He hadn't called you that in years, you thought, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Everything about this encounter was wrong, and the man with the slowly graying hair, big empty eyes, and the uncared for shaggy beard, just didn't belong in the picture of perfection that your kitchen usually presented.

"What are you doing out of your room?" Your voice was cold, and your attempt to stay calm and collected wasn't entirely foiled.

Your father tilted his head to the side, his chapped lips falling into a frown. "What ever do you mean, darling? I just got home from work."

He looked to be worried about you.

"You- you don't go to work anymore... Does Mother know you're out here?"

There was a silence, and then the footsteps of your mother were heard. You gulped audibly, suppressing the urge to hurl.

"Yes, I know," she said with a smile, gracefully walking into the room from the other door opposite from you that also lead into the kitchen.

"Things will change soon, Y/n. He'll have to get used to going out again, isn't that right?"

The last question wasn't directed towards you, and while it was spoken in such a lovely honey tone, the ice cold look of rage in your Mother's eyes told you that something wasn't quite right.

━━━━┅━━━

There was a lingering bad taste in your mouth, a constant blurriness to your vision, a permanent sense of exhaustion in your step, and it seemed to you that all the walls were slowly closing in on you — intent on squashing the life out of you. School was being horrible to you on that day, and the memory of seeing your father was still fresh in your mind, haunting you and following you wherever you went. There was no escape.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa offered a short relief, intent on finally taking you to Iwaizumi's place to meet his parents, and that worked as a distraction from your horrible dizziness. You had met Oikawa's parents on multiple occasions, and you had even met little Takeru, but for some reason, despite your many years of friendship, you had never met Iwaizumi's parents. He was excited, Oikawa was excited, even you had been excited the day before.

But now everything was different, and your two friends noticed that, too, as the three of you made your way to Iwaizumi's house.

"Oi, Nakata," Iwaizumi called to you, interrupting Oikawa, who was in the middle of telling you about all the girls who had watched his previous volleyball game. You looked up from your feet and at your friend who was staring at you with furrowed brows.

"What is it, Hajime?" Your voice sounded tired, and your sunken eyes were making him feel uneasy.

There was a pause. Then, "Are you okay?"

"You look sick, Y/n-chan!" Oikawa added, looking down at you walking beside him. You glared up at him. "You, too," you sulked back.

"Ah, I know that's not true~" he said in a sing-song voice, "guess who got three confessions today?"

You rolled your eyes at his antics, stumbling slightly. Iwaizumi said nothing, continuing to silently stare at you.

"I still don't understand why they would confess to you and not Hajime," you grumbled at Oikawa. This interaction was normal, the way you talked was normal, everything, even the way Oikawa reacted by jumping in front of you so that you could 'appreciate his visuals under the best lighting' was normal, and yet, the way you looked, was not.

"Oh dear, Y/n-chan, are you talking so much about Iwa-chan to hide your deep feeling for me?" Oikawa teased, leaning close to you. You snorted as a reply, sending a glance in Iwaizumi's direction. You noticed that he was being quieter than usual, not voicing his annoyance with the boy beside you, and instead focusing on kicking the rocks beneath his feet.

He noticed your gaze. "What?"

"You're paying less attention to Stupidkawa today," you said, a small smile that was meant to be inviting settling on your face. You were telling him, if not out loud, to join the fun.

As a response, Iwaizumi stared at a pouting and sulky-looking Oikawa dismissively, arms crossed over his chest. "Stop being stupid," he grunted, casually slinging his jacket around your shoulders. The gesture was so familiar that you didn't even react.

"I'm never stupid," you shot back at him, wordlessly thanking Iwaizumi with a barely noticeable nod. You didn't like 'thank you's, or 'your welcome's for that matter.

"Right, that's Stupidkawa's job."

"So cruel, Iwa-chan! Yesterday   
Y/n-chan was still the stupid one!"  
Oikawa retorted, reminding the two of you of yesterday's argument. You stumbled again, your head swimming a bit, but you still managed to let a scowl cross over your face at the insinuated argument.

"I'm still not over that," you frowned. Oikawa let out a loud boisterous laugh at your affronted expression.

Your eyes immediately screwed themselves shut when Iwaizumi reached out towards you and flicked your forehead. "Accidents happen, Y/n," Iwaizumi grumbled at you, sending you a glare.

"Ah, you never learn, Iwa-chan! Accidents don't happen to people who take everything as a personal insult..."

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"Definitely not what it sounds like and definitely—"

You cut him off with a poke to the stomach, making Oikawa clutch at his stomach to stabilise himself. That shut him up.

The three of you continued like this, as you did on most days, walking home while arguing and whining, until you finally made it Iwaizumi's place. You were already slightly swaying by then, your head threatening to spill open due to the pain. 

"Y/n. Are you sure you're okay?" This time it was Oikawa who asked the question, just as the three of you approached Iwaizumi's garden. His tone was unusually serious, and so, you sent him a glare. "I'm fine," you muttered.

But you weren't fine, and as the nausea crept from your abdomen to your head, the world slowly started blurring. Then with one step backwards, your mind jumbled, and your breaths shallow, you crumpled and fell backwards, only to be caught by Iwaizumi's arms.

He shuffled backwards a bit, surprised by the sudden weight, and let out a soft grunt when you collided and his arms encased you.

"Y/n-chan!"

"Nakata. Shit, what's wrong with you?" Iwaizumi growled, immediately lifting you up. You were tiny, weighed next to nothing, and so he didn't have a hard time with that at all.

You had been lucky, because Iwaizumi's mother had just returned home from grocery shopping and had stumbled upon the three of you in the garden, you lying in her son's arms. She knew exactly what to do, and did it too, quickly lowering you to the ground and positioning you correctly on your back, while at the same time loosening your somewhat tight school uniform. Then, with brisk taps, she managed to quickly wake you up, after which Oikawa picked you up to carry you inside.

Iwaizumi's mother was, above all else, a kind woman, one that looked at you, tiny and fragile you, and saw someone to take care of, someone she needed to shelter. Iwaizumi had told you a lot about her, funny things, good things, but he had not been able to relay the simplest of things as he had not even thought to mention it. It was such a given to him that his mother acted like a mother, but the same could not be said about you.

So, while Iwaizumi's father, who he talked about often in a tone laced with pride, wasn't home, his mother was, and that was more than enough for you. She was so very kind to you, yes, and that was nice, but more than that, she treated you like you were a child of hers, like she treated Iwaizumi and Oikawa. Whispering funny things about the boys into your ear, making them flush and whine, while holding you close and encasing you in a fluffy white towel. What that feeling was, you didn't quite know, all you knew was that when she held you close to her chest, her long dark hair tickling your cheek and her soft flowery perfume making you feel drowsy, you felt tears pricking at your eyes. What it was, you didn't know, but you wanted it to so very much.

The boys, who now at age eleven thought that spending time with their mothers was the height of uncool, didn't really understand how you, although you did try to control yourself, reacted to Iwaizumi's mother as though she was an angel sent to you. You followed her words with wide eyes, nodding at whatever she said, and desired to be close to her more than you had ever desired to be close to them.

You felt that particular feeling again when she settled behind you with a brush, after having allowed you to take a hot bath. You had never taken a bath before, only having had showers at home, and the feeling of it was seeping into your skin, filling you with a warmth you couldn't quite place.

The boys sat in front of the television on the floor, watching Iwaizumi's Godzilla, but you didn't spare them a glance, as you were too fixated on Iwaizumi's mother, who was gently pulling a hairbrush through your unruly hair.

She said that you looked better with your hair swept to one side, without a tumble of hair falling over your melancholy eyes. You said nothing, but nodded along to her every word eagerly, almost like a lovesick puppy.

"Would you kids like some snacks?" Iwaizumi's mother asked the three of you, sending you especially a warm inviting smile that had her eyes crinkling. 

"Yes, please!" Oikawa answered first of all of you, a sickly sweet expression on his face that made Iwaizumi's mother laugh happily. In that moment, you were briefly seized by a childish terror, not liking the way Iwaizumi's mother was now no longer paying attention to you, but that fear of yours quickly dispersed when the kind woman leaned down to pinch your cheeks.

Both the boys, who now were only really pretending to watch the movie, had witnessed this moment. And after that, they decided that whatever was going on in your mind was far more interesting than the action movie currently playing on TV. 

They watched you, partly in wonder at how you were sitting in the edge of your chair, so clearly waiting for the woman to return. Unlike them, you weren't waiting for the snacks, you were waiting for her. Admittedly though, Oikawa would never forget the way your eyes lit up when a huge plate of snacks was placed in front of you. The way your eyes widened at the prosciutto, bright red edged with white, and how you licked your lips while looking at the neatly cut orange candy melon, would forever be engraved in his memory.

As the three of you emptied your plates, Iwaizumi's mother once again settled behind you, soothing you with her presence and the way she then started braiding your long hair.

"You're about to grow into your features, Y/n," she said to you warmly, a small smile on her face, "that happens to the prettiest of girls."

Iwaizumi looked at you then, really looked at you, for what maybe was the first time of many.  
He looked at your smooth skin, and saw that there was not a blemish to be seen. He looked at your usually flashing eyes, that now were calm and serene. He looked at your delicate lips, your seraph ears. 

In a sense, you still weren't pretty, not really at least. Your features didn't really go together. Then again, Iwaizumi firmly believed that at that age, the girls that wanted to be pretty were, and the ones that didn't want to, weren't. You just didn't care enough, and so your now far too long and choppy hair usually covered half your face, your frowns were a constant and your glare was frightening.

But, he realized in that moment, you were changing, and this theory of his was proven by the way his mother — who had met many of the girls he went to school with -- couldn't take her eyes off you, and had said to you of all people that you were going to grow into the most beautiful of women.

"Hajime," his mother called to him, making the boy's eyes flicker away from you and to her as she stared at him with a smile that seemed all too knowing. "What?" he grunted back at her, looking away from her and down at the floor in the hope that this would hide his flushed cheeks from her.

"I'm impressed that you caught   
Y/n when she fainted!"

"Yeah," he answered simply. To him, that was never even a question, of course he had caught you. He would always be there to catch you when you fell.

"I would have caught Y/n-chan, too!" Oikawa sulked, and then his mother started laughing. The laughter caused your eyes to widen, and you cuddled closer to her side, enjoying the feeling of warmth her laughter brought you.

"Of course, you would have!"

And after that, maybe because of Oikawa's outburst just then, Iwaizumi understood another thing about you. While at the moment it was only clear to him and maybe to his mother, there was something very attractive and binding that emanated from you. Something that would only grow from then on there until the whole world was able to feel it.

━━━━┅━━━

In the weeks to come, after meeting his mother, on a day that had most probably been the best and worst day of your life (the best because you had met Iwaizumi's mother and the worst because the interaction with your own mother and father forboded something horrible that was soon to happen), Iwaizumi noticed how you were overcome by an exhaustion that, no matter how much you rested, wouldn't go away. It was exhaustion of the mind, of your very being, and it was a truly terrifying thing to witness for your friends. You, who always had a smart reply at the ready, succumbed to silence, letting everyone walk over you until both Oikawa and Iwaizumi were even at times forced to intervene. You skipped school, you didn't study, you didn't read, you were just there, a shell of what you used to be. Absent from everything.

Oikawa tried everything with you, with more than just a hint of desperation. He wanted to play volleyball with you, he wanted to read with you, he just wanted something with you. He wanted you, the old you back.

You didn't come back through anything they did though. But you did eventually get better over time, slowly and only a bit at the time, but it was enough for them to notice. They still tried to help you as you were getting better, offering to involve you even more, thinking that maybe this was an issue caused by loneliness.

They had their volleyball, their team, their coach, their families and lots of friends waiting at school. You, on the other hand, had nothing but them.

It didn't help much, Oikawa trying to get you to play a sport. Iwaizumi knew that you wouldn't have ever tried at a team sport, even in your normal state. Had he asked you to try then, you wouldn't have just said no, but hell to the no no no. You preferred to do competitive things on your own, because —as you had once so liked telling everyone who would listen — you were the best person you knew and couldn't be bothered to downgrade.

Responses that sounded like that would then in the course of time become more common again, but both Oikawa and Iwaizumi knew that them starting Junior High while you were still stuck in elementary school was a hard blow for you. Not only were you jealous of how they were now able to learn more, but also, even though you didn't admit it, you were lonely without them. You missed them.

But mostly, yes, you were jealous of the easily attainable knowledge now in front of them. You would always be jealous of those who were able to learn freely and without a shadow there to haunt them.


	11. a change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitagawa Daiichi  
> Junior High   
> Y/n's 3rd Year  
> Tobio's 2nd Year

"No, Hajime, love is not necessary for happiness." You would say that as ardently as you could, repeat it as often as opportunity allowed, and chant it like a mantra in your head, not because you believed it was true, but because you desperately wanted to convince yourself that it was. You wanted, no, scratch that, you needed that to be true, because there was just no way you could keep on distinguishing between what was real love, and then by extension necessary for happiness, and what was fake love, the thing that caused misery. No matter how smart you were, there were some things even you couldn't do.

Distinguishing was one of those things, and that made life really difficult for someone like you, as there had always been something about you that people wanted to dominate, to control, and to own even. At times, their desire to do so took the form of a mother pretending to be loving, a friend claiming to need you, and more often than not, their intense need for you expressed itself in a way that made it seem to others, not to you, like love, affection or admiration. 

How were you supposed to know what was real and what was not? How were you supposed to attain love?

What nonsense, you scolded yourself. What were you even saying?

You were so clever that at times, you didn't understand a single word of what you were thinking, and the confusion that had seeped deep into your bones threatened to envelop you once again. In your case, confusion lead to depression, which was dangerous for a mind always in motion.

━━━━┅━━━

After Iwaizumi and Oikawa left you alone in Junior High, you were forced to find new means of survival. You began to care for your looks, and just like Iwaizumi had predicted, you soon became pretty. Girls that wanted to be pretty, in one way or another, became pretty. He stood by that.

You still wore your old, faded dresses, and your hair was as untidy as ever, and for all intents and purposes, there was nothing to differentiate you from the usual Y/n. But there was a change. It was your body that started changing first, later than most girls you knew, but you had gotten your period later than was usual, too.

You seemed taller, not much admittedly, but you had grown, and your body finally looked like it belonged to your head. You were, slowly, becoming shapely. While some of the girls in your class were the talk of schools due to their voluptuous bodies (or rather, what thirteen to fifteen year olds considered voluptuous), and most importantly, their growing busts, the same couldn't be said about you. You had small breasts, but they were graceful, fitting your body and your still rigid hips.

All of this, inevitably, drew attention to you, and at the young age of fourteen, you first learned of the power that your body gave you. You noticed it then for the first time, but it became all the more noticeable when your face finally started changing, too.

You were, at first, a sweet beauty, a calming one. A beauty of innocence. With your nose, tiny and cute, your large bright eyes, flashing from time to time, and your lips, your delicate lips that fit neatly onto your face. And when your face looked like that, your small arms and legs looked so graceful, too. There also was your back that curved prettily, your long neck, when you wore your hair up, revealing the smooth skin there, and your hair, long and shiny, falling over your shoulders. 

As time went on, there was more to your change than this, though. You had to be better, more perfect, and so, you changed your being, your very voice so that it would suit the standards you hadn't met before, your way of getting up and getting ready, of dressing and walking, of smiling and crying, and most importantly, of reacting. The change was noticeable, and in that change, it became quite apparent to everyone, that you had more than just a pretty mind.

With the people in school, you couldn't use any of your true smarts, and had to, in various ways, suppress yourself, bringing your beauty to the forefront, and leaving your mind to be the thing people noticed only after the initial meeting. This was a change from before.

Now that your friends were gone, while it maybe didn't really have anything to do with them, you were popular. For the first time in your life, girls wanted to be your friends, boys wanted to walk you home every now and then, and while you didn't exactly have what you called the 'Oikawa effect', now it was so that everyone in school knew your name.

Nakata Y/n.

You seemed like a picture of perfection: beautiful, smart, soft spoken, no longer too opinionated, and where it mattered, you now knew how to shut up. Your outbursts of anger became less and less frequent, you talking at all became less and less frequent, and while a lot of people wanted to be friends with you, you only had one person who you would even consider a friend in school.

Kageyama Tobio, a year below you.

He was going through his own transformations, and it was precisely because of this, that the two of you grew closer. Your friendship with him wasn't anything like the friendship with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, but it was still based on mutual trust and respect. 

Tobio didn't have friends, people didn't like him, and because you were someone who understood this more than most, it was another something that drew the two of you closer together. While you never openly tried to comfort him, he felt strangely relieved whenever he was with you. He appreciated what you did, but more importantly, what you didn't do when in his presence.

You, on the other hand, felt that while your relationship definitely wasn't based on communication, there was some unspoken understanding between the two of you. On some days, he would be rude, and he would be mean like you once had been, and he would come to eat next to you outside because he had done something wrong again, and no longer was welcome anywhere else. He was always ashamed of this, but never ready to admit it.

On other days, you would be the problem. It was probably the influence of your Mother, who had become unbearable now that High School was drawing ever closer, or maybe it was the absence of Oikawa and Iwaizumi, who while you didn't outrightly miss them, had left an odd hollow feeling in your chest. On those days, you would wake up tired, you'd go to school tired, you'd go to your lessons tired, and you'd go to bed tired. Those days left your brain whizzing, your hands shaking, but of course with no palpable explanation. You just had these off days, where you couldn't do anything, not talk, not run, not work.

Kageyama couldn't help you on these days, you were sure that nobody could, but he could understand you. What he could do, and what he did, even though it embarrassed him greatly, was hesitantly offer you his shoulder so that you could sleep in the lunch hour.

He helped you, and you, in return, tried to at times help him, too. But this was certainly proving to be easier said than done. 

━━━━┅━━━

"Yahoo! Y/n-chan! Long time no see, eh?" Tooru hummed happily, his smile familiar and teasing. Looking at him, a smile slowly started creeping onto your lips as well. Your friend was here.

You hadn't seen Oikawa for nearly two months and you were somewhat surprised to see him again, even if you had been expecting him. As always, he was looking handsome and happy, but there was something different about him now.

You cocked your head to the side, watching as he sauntered towards you, his new High School Volleyball jacket causally slung over his shoulder. Tooru looked good.

Of course, he had already been attractive in Junior High, tall for his age, rather pretty with smooth skin, and that head of soft brown hair. Still, as a kid in Junior High, he had been just that, a kid. Now, even though not much time had passed, and you had seen him only two months prior, you felt that the boy had undergone a transformation similar to yours, one that simply had something to do with the fact that he now was a High School student.

"Hi, Tooru," you greeted him, and he saw that your smile was more genuine than usual. Smiles like that usually were reserved for Iwaizumi, never for him.

"Hi, Y/n-chan!" Tooru chirped as he reached your side, putting emphasis on the 'hi' and returning your smile in full. 

The two of you started walking home, there was no need to discuss it, this just felt natural.

Tooru seemed older to you, more mature, and strangely, in his presence, even though you were happy to see him again, you felt embarrassed like never before. You felt, if you had to put it into words, uneducated, standing next to him as a High School student.

But for once, you didn't let your feelings of envy get the better of you. Your smile only brightened.

Oikawa did not say anything for a while after — did not know what to say. He was peculiarly conscious of you walking next to him, looking different, and how your arm would occasionally brush his. That had never bothered him before.

"Why are you here now?" Why was your voice different, too?

You turned to him after the words escaped your lips, a rare grin lighting up your features. This had his stupid smirk disappearing into one of his other smiles, one of the nice smiles.

Strangely, even though it might not have been the time, Tooru was reminded that more than anything, within your features, and especially when you grinned like that, there was a wild streak that made you unexplainably and unexpectedly magnetic. This streak seemed to be becoming more and more apparent. He shook his head, and with it, forced that thought of his to disperse.

He smiled with the corner of his mouth. "Is it wrong of me to come visit my old school, Y/n-chan?"

Of course, he was lying. The school itself didn't interest him at all, but his old team did interest him, and you did interest him. So, naturally, he was going to come visit.

You sighed softly. "Yes. Once I'm out, I'm never coming back here. To this school. It makes me feel sick, Tooru."

He tilted his head to the side as he walked beside you, silently grabbing your bag and slinging it over his shoulder. The gesture reminded you of Iwaizumi, and the way Tooru then, without words, prompted you to go on, felt like your other friend, too.

"This school was a bad chapter in my book. I convinced myself that I was going to be sad forever, just because I was sad for a while. I was pathetic."

He didn't say anything, he couldn't say anything. He wanted to tell you that you had been a victim, that you hadn't made yourself one, but he couldn't bring himself to argue with you. He too felt like somehow, his time at Junior High had convinced him that he was powerless, and now, High School would hopefully prove as a way to reverse said belief.

He had told himself that there was nothing he could do. Had you perhaps done the same?

"Were you sad without me?" After a pregnant silence, he finally answered your soft words with a question. His voice was void of of that usual Oikawa-ness, and that made you realize that this was actually something he took seriously. For a moment, you felt flattered. Oikawa, someone you knew usually only took volleyball seriously, was serious about this, about you. You ignored the fact that he had only asked if you had missed him, and not the two of them. 

"No, not really," you answered, and looked at him from the corner of your eye, "were you?"

He rolled his eyes and nodded quickly. You sighed.

"But I did feel as though something was missing. I didn't like that feeling, Tooru. It felt like shit."

There was a silence.

That was the first time he had heard you curse, and somehow, the hilarity of that situation made everything better.

"The mouth on this one!" Tooru exclaimed, one arm landing over your shoulders. You grinned up at him, and laughed next to him.

The two of you walked home, laughing and joking in a way Tooru felt the two of you never had before. Were things really allowed to feel this good?


	12. Think pretty thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitagawa Daiichi  
> Junior High

"No, I don’t accept this. I know you know this, Tobio," you said, determination shining in your eyes. The boy looked at you for a moment, then looked back at his homework, and then back at you again. That was where his gaze stayed, his eyelids drooping slightly and his lips curling downwards. No, he didn't know this...

"Come on, we went through this last week. I know you didn't forget this," you whined desperately, picking up the paper and waving it in the younger boy's face. His eyes connected with yours again, almost guiltily. Actually...

"You forgot. You actually forgot, huh?" you mumbled, face blank as you thought of all the possible ways to jump out of the window.

The boy's cheeks flushed slightly. "Sorry, Y/n-senp—"

"—Don't, Tobio. Really, just don't. Y/n. Just Y/n. I call you Tobio, you call me Y/n," you interrupted him, placing the paper and pen back on the table with a sigh. You leaned back in your chair, absentmindedly twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers.

You were thinking, and this time not of various ways to jump out of windows. No, you needed a way to help Tobio, even if you yourself didn't know why you needed this. 

After all, your lust for revenge had admittedly burned out pretty quickly, and your anger at Oikawa went along with it. There was no longer any real need for you to tutor the boy, since annoying Oikawa, as fun as it was, no longer was something at the top of your to-do list.

But you supposed that you did like Tobio. He was an idiot, yes, that was granted, but he was a smart idiot, if that made any sense. He was also interesting, and above all, kind to you, in the ways he could be, for reasons you didn't quite know. 

"You're good at volleyball, right?" you asked the boy suddenly, already knowing that the answer was 'yes'. You didn't ask the question to know if he was good at volleyball, because frankly, you couldn't think of anything that would interest you less, no, you asked because you wanted to see how Tobio would answer this question.

You squinted your eyes at him, and upon hearing your question, the boy straightened in his seat, his eyes widening slightly. The tips of his hair looked to be charged with electricity as soon as his mind went into that familiar territory: volleyball.

"I am!" he burst out, "but I want to get better, so that I can be like Oikawa-san!"

Huh, it was unfortunate how much Tobio liked Oikawa. Unfair, really.

You sighed, looking up at the taller dark-haired boy. "Well, then, I guess I'll think of something to help you. Look over what we did today, and uh, you can get to practice now."

It wasn't all for nothing, you realized, because Kageyama Tobio did have determination in him.

"Thank you!"

The boy bowed, and an expression of relief settled on his face when he realized that finally, he had been liberated. No more math.

You cleared your throat. "Uh, you, I guess, you don't have to tell Tooru— I mean, Oikawa-san, that we were studying, alright?"

"Alright!" And then he was gone, dashing off around the corner with speed and enthusiasm. 

You had before asked the boy, somewhat slyly, to always mention that he was returning from a tutoring session with you whenever he saw his Captain. It was a way for you to get back at Oikawa, but you didn't think it was necessary any longer.

No longer were you tutoring Tobio for Oikawa. And no longer were you really angry at your friend for his apparent betrayal.

Really, how could you be, now that the cat was out of the bag, and the boys, your boys, knew about everything. About what your life at home had looked like for all these years, about your father, about your Mother, and how everything in your life was leading you down all the wrong roads. They knew it all now, all your dirty secrets, and with this knowledge of theirs, came various reactions, various emotions, and an apology from Oikawa. So, all this resulted in you, despite the fact that you were not a particularly forgiving person, forgiving your friend.

You had to be nicer, otherwise you would never get better, and opening up to them, forgiving Oikawa, were first steps in the right direction. Other early steps included a very important lesson you had recently learned, one that would accompany you for the rest of your life. After years of being absolutely despised by just about everyone, you discovered that you were able to voice your brash opinions without lying, while at the same time, softening them, and turning the complicated, the difficult, the intense, into something understandable, something everyone could share in.

This made you slightly more likable. Not that this was enough, no, you wouldn't stop until you owned the world.

You sighed quietly, standing up, too. It was stupid; you weren't supposed think thoughts like these while at school. School was your getaway, the one place where you weren't being controlled by your very own puppet master. Thoughts that depressed you needed to leave. You just didn't want to think about how you weren't good enough yet.

After quickly stuffing all of your notes and books into your bag, you slowly made your way down the first hallway, and away from the classroom you had been studying in. Where precisely you were going, you didn't know. You had no goal, all you knew was that you didn't want to go home just yet. Without your knowledge, you feet carried you to the gym, where not too long ago, Tobio had rushed to.

You were slightly dazed, still somewhat lost in your thoughts, as you stumbled upon the boys' volleyball team practicing hard as they always did. Squeak sq-squeak sq-squeak: the sound of volleyball shoes jumping and thundering against the waxed wooden gym floor. God, you hated those sounds.

You watched from the door, immediately spotting Iwaizumi. He was the center of attention, explaining something to the team, while Oikawa, sulking somewhat, was behind him. You laughed softly at the sight.

Oikawa Tooru was a great Captain, there was no doubt about that. He knew how to lead, he was determined, he had a clear goal in mind, and he was able to care for his team. Despite all of that, Iwaizumi also had something about him that just demanded respect.

He was intimidating, and so was Oikawa at a certain angle, but Iwaizumi was intimidating in a different way, a respectable way. He was, if you had to put it into words, just overall a really good guy, and somehow, that demanded attention and respect. 

That was why Iwaizumi was somehow still the backbone of the team, the emotional support, if you will.

Looking past your friends, you spotted more familiar faces. You knew Tobio, of course, but you knew Kunimi, and Kindaichi, too, even if it only was through watching their practices. Your eyes narrowed, and you tried, without hearing what they were saying, to make out what they were like. This was a game you liked to play when you had nothing to do.

Kunimi wore an an indifferent expression on his face and to you, he didn't look like someone who showed his emotions particularly often, or well, for that matter. He was relatively tall, with dark hair that was parted in the middle into two sides, and you supposed he was quite thin despite his somewhat lean and musical build. He looked older than his age.

You were about to move to the other players, when you felt a presence next to you. And surely, when you glanced to the spot where Iwaizumi had previously been, speaking to the team members, you now saw Oikawa, telling the team, with the help of the coach by his side, how exactly he wanted this practice to go. 

"Here to watch us play?" Iwaizumi asked, reaching over to ruffle your head. You flicked your eyes up momentarily. "I'm tired," was all you said, all you could say.

His olive eyes were piercing, his dark spiky hair messy, and his tan skin was taut over his muscles, showing how much he had grown into his physique over the years. You scowled. You didn't want your friend to be handsome, it just wasn't right. Oikawa being unfairly pretty since childhood was already enough.

Iwaizumi stared at you, and then nodded. "Then, stay. And come home with me today. Okaasan misses you."

You perked up a bit, staring at Iwaizumi with wide eyes. You had really really missed his mother, so surely, whatever trouble this would get you in with your own mother, was worth it?

"Okay," you mumbled, looking at your friend again, longer this time, "but you go play now. Don't leave the team alone with Oikawa."

Would you be allowed to take a bath again? At Iwaizumi's?

You knew that Iwaizumi had noticed your weird mood, how your were much softer than usual, much more dazed, and how you didn't argue with him about everything like you usually did. You were known for being difficult, and he knew that on some days, he could say the sky was blue, and then you would make it your mission to prove him wrong, just because you liked being difficult.

You were tired, he could really see it.

He grinned at you and didn't say anything about it. "Go sit down next to our manager, don't wait here."

It was even more unlike you to comply without some sort of smart remark, wordlessly shuffling towards the benches, and by extension, the manager. That was when the rest of the team noticed you, and Oikawa energetically sent you a wave. A wave that you did not return, as you, with your eyes glued to the floor, hadn't taken notice of him, or Tobio for that matter, who was staring at you weirdly, wondering why your mood had changed so drastically in such a brief amount of time.

You sat, in a daze, thinking about how you were not supposed to think bad thoughts while at school. In that moment, you remembered words Oikawa had once said to you, about how trying not to think about something was the same as thinking about it. He was right, of course, and once your thoughts went down that road, they only continued getting further and further out of control.

In Junior High, while it truly hurt you to admit it, out of the three of you, one excelled more than the other two. And the one who excelled, wasn't you. Oikawa Tooru, with an above average athletic build, what most girls considered dreamy good looks, and a natural ability for what he loved to do, namely play volleyball, matured and grew into his abilities like no other, drawing to him the attention that you had always craved with all your heart. 

You were jealous of your friend, jealous of his greatness. And it was only after three months of you tutoring Oikawa's seeming biggest rival, Tobio Kageyama, that you were able to let go of that jealousy.

When you finally realized what really went on in your friend's head, you felt incredibly stupid, and it was a feeling that left you shivering in your tracks. There had been many signs over the years, and you had missed them all.

Things like continuously losing against Shiratorizawa Academy Junior High, and more specifically, the young giant Ushiwaka, had affected him to a great extent, of course they had, but it was only after meeting and getting to know this second rival of Oikawa's that you knew why.

It was so simple, so easy to understand. 

Oikawa Tooru was not a genius. 

But Ushijima Wakatoshi, and Kageyama Tobio were, and above all, Oikawa hated losing to them, for their success imposed shackles on him, shackles that told him that without natural talent like theirs, he would only ever be able to reach a certain level, no matter how much practice he put into his beloved sport.

This was wrong. You hated this. Another sigh left your lips. You just wanted to stop these thoughts, these memories, and—

And what?

What did you want?

Did you want Oikawa to just be the best? Or did you yourself want to be the best? Or did you want to be like Iwaizumi, who maybe was the only one among the three of you that was truly happy?

And then, "Y/n! Watch out!"

You turned, blinking tiredly.

"Oi Nakata!"

But it was too late, and if not that, then you were just too out of it to react properly. Usually, your physical reactions, like your mental ones, were quick and sharp, but today, once again for reasons you couldn't quite name, you could only stare at the ball as it hurtled towards you.

Ouch.

The ball hit you squarely in the face, almost knocking you over. You didn't cry out, despite the throbbing pain, instead holding your hand to your nose to feel the steady flow of blood.

Perfect. Just perfect. 

"Baka. Why did you just stare at the ball?" Iwaizumi asked gruffly as he settled down beside you, tissues in hand. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, and without any protest, you let him clean you up. His touch was gentle and warm, but above all else, familiar.

You shrugged in reply.

"Ah, you know, Iwa-Chan, Y/n-chan thinks she can stop balls with just her brain power. My my, it's her confidence that will be her downfall."

Everyone knew who that voice belonged to.

"Oikawa. you're. dead," you grit out, reaching out to hit him over the head, sadly missing abysmally. But because you were in a strange mood, you didn't chase after your friend, instead settling down again, propping your chin on your hand.

You felt off...

You couldn't even be mad at Oikawa, and that was something new.

All you could now was anticipate seeing Iwaizumi's mother again. That was it.


	13. The bluebird escapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitagawa Daiichi  
> Junior High   
> Y/n's 3rd Year  
> Tobio's 2nd Year

He was silent for a moment, and you felt a small pressure squeeze your heart. Finally, he broke the silence with a sigh. "Oikawa will be mad," he said, slowly. You gave him a glance, one that only said that you knew. You knew, and you couldn't bring yourself to care too much. Iwaizumi sighed again.

The two of you were on the hill overlooking your childhood again. This time, it wasn't cold, as the school year was slowly coming to an end. 

"Is this because of that woman you like so much? Did she tell you to do this?"

You swallowed, thinking of the only two grown-ups you actually admired in your life. First, of course, there was Iwaizumi's mother, who you tried to visit at least every two weeks, who would always hold a special place in your heart. More than anyone else, Iwaizumi's mother was your mother, too. You loved her deeply.

But she, of course, wasn't the woman Iwaizumi was referring to. He was talking about your piano teacher, who couldn't really be called that as she never taught you how to play the piano. Your lessons with her were fascinating, she would give you books to read, give you tasks that stimulated your mind like nothing else ever had, and she did all of this, while making it clear that you were not a nobody. She believed in you, and made this very clear, too.

After every lesson with her, you were just seized by a need and passion to learn, you wanted to be filled with knowledge, and in those times, you learnt about many things in little time: art, literature, science, history, everything you could think of. Never would you be satisfied, you always wanted more knowledge, more time to read, more time to write.

She made you increasingly happy.

"What's she called again?" he asked, threading you a look.

"I- I only call her Piano Sensei in the lessons, but- but I think her full name is Kuroo Himari. She taught the piano at her son's high school or something, and one of her students was that guy we see in the news a lot." Your throat worked, and you seemed to be fighting for the right words. You wanted to make her seem like the impressive person she was, but nothing was coming out right.

"Never heard of her."

That wasn't really a surprise though, was it?

"She's amazing, Hajime," you breathed out quietly. 

Iwaizumi flinched at the look in your eyes, the look you didn't even acknowledge, and seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he set his jaw, determined. "So, it is because of her?"

You hesitated.

"No... she doesn't even teach at Nekoma High anymore, but if I go to a school in Tokyo, a good school, we'd have time for more lessons."

But it was partly because of Piano Sensei, the tall, lean woman, with the brows and lashes drawn in a darker hue. You admired her, you wanted to learn from her. 

She was a very slender woman, and she carried herself with an easy sort of confidence that made her far too likable and seem far too accomplished. If you had to put it into words, she was exactly what you wanted to grow up to be. Minus the part where she lived with her parents to take care of them. You would pass on that.

Piano Sensei wasn't married apparently, or at least, she no longer was, but she did have two kids, one of which was a boy about your age. You hadn't met him, but she talked about him a lot. His sister was also mentioned every now and then, but you could tell she was intent on drawing out the similarities between you and her son.

You didn't mind. You liked your teacher, more than you did most adults, and much more than you did most teachers. And if her son was as smart as she claimed, you would have no problem proving you were smarter, because in you, she awoke a happiness, a happiness that had something to do with proving your knowledge.

So, while she wasn't the reason for everything, she definitely played a role.

"There are probably better schools out there... academies, too," Iwaizumi ground out, and you wanted to laugh, because it looked like saying the word caused him actual pain. While you and Oikawa certainly were the more immature in your friend group that did not mean that Iwaizumi didn't have his moments.

You liked these moments far more than you let on.

"Mother can't pay so much. She wanted Shiratorizawa Academy at first, but she thinks it'll be easier if I transfer to a good school like that after my first year. She wants me to go to a normal, okay school first, and then she wants me to transfer to some fancy academy."

"And Shiratorizawa is an option?"

"According to Mother, it's the option. It's not like Fukurodani or Itachiyama would ever take me. I don't do team sport. Shiratorizawa, on the other hand, does proper scholarships."

"I don't know any of those schools," he admitted, his fingers circling around some of the grass beside him on the ground, "but you're the brilliant Y/n... there's no reason not to take you."

You smiled, and wished it were so. But it wasn't. You spoke more languages than most, more fluently, too, but that would only help you later on, and while you were able to play a couple of instruments, it wasn't like you were good enough to even dabble in competitions, so the only weapons you did have, were your grades.

But these special schools, like Fukurodani or Itachiyama, they wanted more than just good grades. They wanted that, too, but more than that, they wanted, if you couldn't pay, some kind of achievement. You had no such achievements yet.

"I want to see if Nekoma High works, but I don't have my hopes up too high. I'll probably settle for one of the schools here, like Johzenji or Torino. Schools like that." You shrugged, and if you had to be completely honest, you didn't care too much either way. You would be fine with anything.

You ignored the way Iwaizumi's face scrunched up in distaste at the mention of Johzenji. He didn't have any reaction to Torino, and you would assume, that similarly to you before you had seen the pamphlet, he had not heard of the school at all.

Iwaizumi had, however, heard of Johzenji, and if there was one school that just didn't fit with his aesthetic, it was Johzenji. He shuddered at the mere thought of you going there. Not too long ago, his school, Seijoh, had played and won against them in a practice match, and Iwaizumi remembered clearly how weirded out he had felt after the match.

"Seijoh isn't even a possibility?" He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway. And surely, this time, it was your turn to scrunch up your nose.

"I don't want that school... I'm sorry, Hajime, but it feels like Kitagawa Daiichi, the sequel. I can't deal with that again."

He grunted but couldn't deny it. It was the truth, after all. Most people he knew from Kitagawa Daiichi ended up going to Seijoh. Not that he thought it was a bad thing, but maybe, for you, it was.

There was a silence between the two of you, a familiar silence. Both of you knew what was going to come up next.

"Latey-kawa's going to be here soon," he said in a low tone of voice. You didn't answer, and then he added, even lower, "be honest with him, alright?"

As usual, with you, Hajime's voice wasn't threatening or cold in any way, but your body reacted before your brain could, and you found yourself shrinking into yourself, keeping your eyes locked onto the ground in shame. He had read you like an open book and knew immediately that you were thinking of ways to escape the uncomfortable situation to come.

"Oi. Shittykawa might be shitty, but he's not a totally shitty guy," Iwaizumi grunted. He didn't like praising Oikawa in front of Oikawa, he could never bring himself to do so, but whenever he was with you, he often felt the need to protect his best friend.

Perhaps you at times understood who Tooru Oikawa was more deeply than he ever could, but despite that, you were never good at treating him right. You understood the big parts of him, but maybe you didn't understand how they all added up.

Iwaizumi understood more in that sense, more about both of you.

After a brief pause, you finally said something again, looking slightly pained. "I know... Of course, I know," you said softly, but you were rubbing your hands together in an uncomfortable manner, still. It told Iwaizumi that you didn't understand nearly as much as you should have by now.

It took Oikawa Tooru another twenty minutes to arrive, and by that time, the nervousness had settled into your stomach. You felt slightly queasy, and Iwaizumi beside you on the grass, felt increasingly annoyed. He couldn't wait to hear whatever excuse the setter came up with.

But, Iwaizumi thought as he cast your slightly shaky form a glance, that would have to wait. You had to get whatever you needed to say out of your system first. You were, after all, as Iwaizumi knew well, a somewhat frail girl, one who was prone to collapsing more than most people. At times, your sadness or your anger was enough to just make you freeze up, which then in turn, more of than not, resulted in a headache or a dizzy spell. In order to avoid that, you needed to get your feelings out.

━━━━┅━━━

Tooru lifted a brow at the two of you already sitting comfortably in the spot that was always meant for the three of you, eyes flicking from one to the other. Yes, it was his fault for being late, but still, couldn't the two of you have waited for him? It looked like you had already delved into the deep stuff.

He let out a tsk and cast his eyes over you. It seemed to you that the longer he looked at you, the darker his already dark enough mood became. 

"What, Tooru?" you snapped at him, annoyed, yes, but more than anything, it was a defensive snap. You didn't want another fight, not now. The snap reminded him that even though you appeared softer, kinder, you still had that familiar anger in you at all times. The remaining amusement fled out of his eyes then, and his mouth drew tightly into a scowl. He folded his arms over his chest, and Iwaizumi snorted at the action. You said nothing.

"What's with you?" Iwaizumi asked, sharing a short glance with the setter.

"Y/n-chan!" Oikawa barked, his voice cutting. He ignored the ace, ignored everything, and focused solely on you. You raised your head and watched as he took a deep breath.

You hadn't expected him to say what he did.

"Whatever you're telling Iwa-chan, you can tell me, too. I won't be mad, I promise."

You blinked, looked at Iwaizumi for confirmation (he only rolled his eyes and chucked a handful of grass at you), and nodded slightly. Oikawa Tooru, dramatic as always, closed his eyes and pretended to brace himself for what was to come. 

You let out a breath.

"I won't go to Seijoh with you," you blurted out. Tooru let out a breath, too, and stared at you, then turned to Iwaizumi, as if to confirm, and then turned to you again. "And?"

"I also might go to school in Tokyo from now on." He sucked in a breath, and you winced. As it was, the three of you already saw so little of each other, but how would that work out if you weren't even here most of the time? 

He had every right to be mad, you had once upon a time promised that the three of you would always go to the same schools. It was always you who broke the promises, huh?

"That's okay," Tooru said after a short pause, but you could see that it wasn't really okay. You could see that he wanted it to be okay though, and you appreciated it. 

"Thanks, Tooru," you whispered, reaching out your hand to him. He blinked down at your outstretched hand, surprised, but he didn't hesitate for much longer. He stepped forward and grasped your hand in his. 

Without hesitation, you pulled him to the ground next to you. You knew that he had let it happen, as there was no way you tugging on his hand could ever throw him off balance, but you nevertheless appreciated how he let you win. Again.

You let go of his hand, rolling your eyes at him as he pouted in mock sadness. Iwaizumi joined in on the eye rolling, and soon, Tooru was clutching at his chest, telling tales of woe, how the two of you had broken his heart into thousand little pieces.

"I hate you," you said, but of course, your smile told both Tooru and Hajime that you didn't mean it. Not in that moment, at least.

Tooru's lips tipped into a lopsided smirk. "S'not true, Y/n-chan. You love me."

"Debatable."

And then you smiled, and for the beauty of you truly smiling joyfully, no comparisons were adequate. In the eyes, big and shining softly, the elegantly shaped nose, and in the blossom shaped lips, there was both beauty and purity. Your features just lit up when you smiled.

There was just a certain kind of something there. A something that radiated from within you that rendered you irresistible in certain lights. 

The light of your happiness was one of those lights, because when you were happy, you drew people in deeper and deeper into a fierce kind of happiness. 

It was almost as if you were learning that rage wasn't your only weapon. If things went wrong, it could also be okay, it didn't have to be horrible, because you could fight the horrible in different ways. You didn't have to fight the horrible of the world with the horrible inside of yourself.


	14. When Y/n was here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitagawa Daiichi  
> Junior High   
> Y/n's 3rd Year  
> Tobio's 2nd Year

When you had appeared near both of their windows late in the evening, and told them to meet you near the usual spot in the morning, it had most definitely been a demand, and your tone of voice had indicated that there was no denying your request. You had turned up out of the blue, throwing rocks at their windows, a stubborn expression on your face that they could make out even in the dark. Without even checking to make sure if they had any plans, you had claimed both their Saturday's as your own. 

Iwaizumi had thrown open the window, hair messed up from sleep, vein prominent on his forehead and left eye twitching, and he had shouted at you at the top of his lungs. He had screamed that you were a stupid idiot, that you were supposed to let him sleep and — and then, his mother had turned up behind him with a murderous facial expression of her own, and scolded him, ordering him to be quiet. That had put him in a horrible mood, but of course, since it was you, there was no doubt that he would still turn up tomorrow.

Oikawa, surprisingly, had been less difficult, in the way that he had only slowly trotted towards the window, looked down at you standing in the dark, stuck out his tongue, and had then promptly lowered the shutters, refusing to react in any other way. His sister, who came around every now and then, now as an apparent expert on parenting, would tell him that reacting would only be enabling your bratty behavior.

It was pretty clear to you that he too would be coming to your usual spot on the hill tomorrow. Even if they had acted annoyed, both knew that whenever something had anything to do with the spot on the hill, it meant you were serious.

They were right: you were serious. So serious, in fact, that you had made preparations for the adventure you had planned for the three of you.

The three of you were going to explore the vast world. This adventure was going to mark the end of a certain time in your life.

Saturdays usually meant violin and chemistry lessons for you, both of which more often than not took place in Tokyo. You were going to skip these lessons, preferably without your Mother knowing, and instead spend the day exactly how you wanted to spend it. With your friends. As a proper goodbye.

When your Mother came into your room in the morning with the outfit she had chosen for you (a woolen blouse, and a horrid ankle-length skirt), you had smiled and complied without complaint, pulling on the itchy garments in record time. All the while, shocked by your unusual obedience, your Mother didn't notice your strangely light violin case that was now stuffed with a dress of your own choosing, one or two scarves, and a small lunchbox. You had everything you needed when you walked out the door, making sure to respectfully walk to the usual bus station, before turning on your heels and dashing around the corner in a totally different direction.

The first thing you did was find an abandoned alleyway, hide behind some garbage cans, and change your clothes. Off with the horrid blouse, and on with the red flowing dress made of soft, satiny fabric. It was long and loose around your small frame, and without the tiny black belt, it looked a bit like a potato sack might. You had saved some of the money you got from your Piano Sensei, who refused to actually teach you piano, and instead opted for giving you books to read, and questions to think about. 

With that money, you had bought your first dress, this dress, off a street rack in Tokyo.

It wasn't really expensive, but the high collar that was made of a silk-like material, and your neat-looking violin case in your left hand made you feel like a right proper lady.

You also felt like this was reflected in the way you skipped through the neighborhood, your violin case banging softly against your leg as you jumped from one crack in the road to another.

Over streets, through alleyways, and under bridges, you went, lightly as an acrobat, in search of your friends who would surely already be waiting for you on the hill overlooking your childhood. The closer you got, the faster you went, the wind sweeping through your wild hair.

People shot you dirty looks as you rushed past them, but you didn't care, all you could think of, for once, was the fun you were going to have. 

As you had expected, your friends were already waiting for you, both dressed in in sporty attire that you were sure would be more suitable for what you had planned than your dress. But that didn't matter, you wanted to wear your dress, and since this was an opportunity you had never had before, nothing, not even the muddy path in the forest, would stop you.

But as you neared them, your two friends didn't waste a second, pouncing on you before you could even greet them. It was time for them to get their revenge on you for disturbing them so late at night. Iwaizumi took you into his arms, encased you, and lifted you up, holding you so that Oikawa, who came towards you with an evil smirk, could tickle you while you thrashed and squealed.

Even when you tried to pretend that you were as invulnerable as Sauron, your Lord and Savior, your number one weakness, tickling, would still always be your downfall.

"Stop!"

"No! Feel our wrath, Y/n-chan! I was asleep!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay?!" you let out, stuck between giggles and tears of laughter as they continued to attack you with ticklish blows.

"You're sorry? Not yet you're not, but you will be," Iwaizumi grunted in your ear, and you continued to squirm in his grasp. "I'll never do it again! I promise!"

They didn't stop.

"Hajime! I'm wearing a special dress, don't lift me so high!"

Both boys froze then, as if only now realizing that yes, you were indeed wearing a dress. Hajime blinked at you, gently putting you back on the ground, his warm hands leaving your waist. He took a step back, standing next to Tooru to observe you with raised eyebrows.

"You are wearing a special dress," Hajime confirmed, sounding confused. You wore dresses a lot, but only ever the faded gray ones your Mother chose for you. This was something new, it seemed.

"Why are you wearing a dress?" Tooru demanded, hands on his hips. Hajime rolled his eyes at the dramatic setter, but said nothing. You also only shrugged, but there was a grin creeping up on your lips.

Oikawa made a face at your expression, marched towards you, and clamped his hands down on your shoulders. They stayed there as he looked down at you. "Who are you trying to impress? Tell me why you're wearing a dress, Y/n-chan," he ordered, and you almost immediately laughed in your friend's face. His tone was joking, and even though you would never admit it, you were flattered by the attention they were giving you.

This was a special moment for you, and they had picked up on this, and were making sure that it really was everything you imagined it to be. Your Mother had controlled your choice of clothing all your life, and this freedom was a rarity. More than that, this dress was also your real first purchase.

"You look pretty," Hajime told you simply. You looked down, somewhat embarrassed, but still so very happy at his words. There was a short silence in which you found that you couldn't bring yourself to look up at them.

Tooeu's finger slipped against your chin, bringing your face back up, and demanding your attention once again. But there was a different air about him now. Your lips parted, and you watched with wide eyes as he traced his thumb along your jaw, seeming lost in a train of thought. Despite the faraway expression, his eyes were sparkling with a flare of familiar intensity, dead focused on you. 

"W-what are you doing?" You genuinely hated yourself for the stutter. 

Iwaizumi nudged Tooru gruffly, and he dropped his hand, eyes flicking towards you for a moment, before he directed them up at the sky in a casual movement, as if nothing had happened and the two of you weren't staring at him with wide eyes. "You do look pretty,   
Y/n-chan," he told you, a smile on his lips, as he took a step backward from you, hands stuffed into his jacket.

"Ah... I-" you cut yourself off, and even though you hated yourself for it, looked down again for a minute in order to gain your bearings.

You were happy, but still, this was uncharted territory. 

Pretty Y/n. 

Hajime came to your rescue.

"So... What are we doing?" he asked. The atmosphere turned serious within a moment.

Your hands settled on your hips. "We're going on an adventure. Like we used to. In the forest."

"Why? And why now?"

"Because we'll never be those kids again," you said to them, with that sudden undertone of sadness lacing your voice. They looked at you, but said nothing, and you took that as a sign to continue.

"Everything's going to change now. I'm leaving in two weeks. I'll be in Tokyo for the whole summer. After that... After that, Mother will have chosen a school for me, and something tells me, it'll be different."

No one said anything, and you recognized the silence. They knew you were right, and even though none of you knew why, the adventure today would somehow serve as a goodbye to a certain period of your life. You would still see each other, of course, you would. But slowly, but surely, the three of you were already becoming less and less equal.

It had started when they left for High School. There, they were known as 'Oikawa and Iwaizumi', the duo. There was no talk of a trio. You didn't have a presence there.

And soon, you would disappear, even more, leaving a school like Kitagawa Daiichi that was still in some way connected to Aoba Johsei. If you went down a different path, there would be little connecting the three of you.

No longer would you be able to walk the same way home.

"We'll never again be the kids we are today. Let's go far away together, deep into the forest. Like we used to. But we're older now, so let's go further. Let's go on one last adventure."

━━━━┅━━━

The three of you tracked up the hills amid grass and meadows of flowers, and you stared with wide eyes at everything, as if it was your last day here on earth, and the three of you alone had been tasked with explaining to an alien species why planet earth had been beautiful. What would you have said to those aliens?

Would you talk about the trees that rose up from the ground as if they were trying to reach for the sky? Or would you talk about how the smell of freshness surrounded you as you passed over hills and plowed fields? Or, maybe you would explain how majestic the mountains looked up ahead in the distance. How they were green at their base, but then, as your gaze traveled upwards, the green became less and less, and the very tops were always coated in white.

At the time, you neither knew nor cared whether this landscape you were seeing was reality or some dreamed up insanity of yours, all you could think of was that you wanted to live in the green world forever. With your friends by your side.

"You look so happy, Y/n-chan." You looked to him at his words and caught the curve of his mouth before he hid the smile. You shrugged, and smiled at him. "You do, too."

But Tooru was right. You were happier than ever, as the street you lived on, the school building, and even your own home, had depressed you. Those places were teeming with bad memories and bad people, who wanted only to eat you up, and places like this, places filled with nature, seemed your only escape.

The power of nature, the mystery, and possibilities of maybe spirits living in the springs, worked strangely to exorcise your dark thoughts.

More and more time passed, and even though you had never been particularly fit, especially when compared to the two boys, you didn't tire, not visibly at least. And when it looked like you were about to tire, Iwaizumi called a halt, made you sit down, and forced you to eat some of your lunch, and for good measure, some of his, too. 

Oikawa would butt in, too, then, and he would hold his water bottle to your face until you reluctantly took a couple of sips. When you complained, he would just remind you that as your older and more importantly, mature friend, it was his job to take care of you.

At one point, as the three of you walked, surrounded by the beauty of nature, and the pleasure that came from exploring the world with your friends, it seemed that you became strangely light-headed. You seemed happy, and more importantly, free. You talked a lot to them, even to Oikawa, in a way you had never before.

You said things to him while laughing, in a teasing way, and both boys understood that to you, it was as if none of the words spoken here were real, as if, as long as they were spoken here, in a world of imaginary bliss, in this fun world of make-believe that didn't really exist, none of the dark thoughts that plagued your mind existed. None of the struggles that usually held the three of you down could even attempt to make an appearance.

You became even somewhat strange with your words, in a way that reminded them of some of the wild thoughts you always liked to put down in writing.

You held up your hand, stretched out your fingers, your pinky, and your thumb, so that the very tips connected the two mountain tops in the distance. "Do you think we could hang a swing there?" You asked them, tone soft, accompanied by a faraway look. "We'd be so high up, and we'd go back and forth, again and again."

"You'd stop swinging though after a while, Y/n-chan. And then what? You're up there on a swing, cold and alone. Who can push your swing from up there?"

"I don't know... I guess it's just a silly thought."

Tooru snorted. "Of course, it's a silly thought. Were you actually being serious?"

You didn't answer, and the three of you continued onwards, even as everything started glowing a dim orange under the burnt sky. As you passed a waterfall cascading over some rocks, Hajime decided that a brief break was in order yet again, so that you could fill up your water bottles.

"We've been walking for hours. We'll have to head back soon," he commented, leaning against the rock, with one hand holding the water bottle. Tooru nodded in agreement, staring at you in slight amusement as you wiped beads of sweat off your forehead. "Someone looks tired, too," Tooru piped up, a small smirk gracing his features.

"Who looks tired?" you asked dumbly, and both boys simultaneously rolled their eyes at you.

"Let's go on a little farther. There's supposed to be a pretty river up ahead."

As you neared what all three of you knew to be the end of your journey, you slowed down to make the path last longer. It took the three of you another hour of walking, or, 'exploring', as you put it, to reach the river.

There, the three of you collapsed next to a huge tree that cast a shadow over some of the moss covering the area. It was comfortable, for the floor was soft and cool against your skin.

"It's so pretty," you breathed out as you stared at the river in front of you. And truly, it was, but more than that, the river somehow seemed deadly. It was a dangerous river.

You thought briefly of all the people who might have drowned in this river. It had been here for so many years, so surely, someone had to have gone asleep beneath it. The river, in a way, presented a challenge to you.

You wanted to cross that river. You wanted to succeed where maybe others hadn't. While the boys closed their eyes, rested their tired limbs, your body awoke with excitement at the prospect of trying something dangerous.

You continued observing the river closely. 

Even when Hajime decided that it was now finally time for the three of you to move on, you didn't move your eyes from the river. Hajime watched you closely while he packed up the stuff, even taking your violin case from you so that he could carry it.

"We could do it, you know," you said, and your voice was hard, your eyes flashing with determination. Wariness passed over Hajime's expression at your words. You scrunched up your brows as you continued surveying the flowing river in front of you; it wasn't very wide. You meant what you said, you were sure now that you could do it.

"Do what, Y/n-chan?" Tooru asked disinterestedly, his mind already on what he was sure was going to be a grueling return journey. The three of you hadn't even made it very far, but it had taken a long time, and he was now hungry. He sent a glance to Hajime at his side, and was somewhat surprised to see his friend intently glaring at your oblivious form.

"No." That was all the ace said, and the finality there was apparent. Tooru even shuddered, but you, of course, didn't, eyes still fixed on the river in front of you. 

Tooru's smile faltered as Hajime stepped forward towards you. "Oi! Nakata. Are you listening? I said no."

Tooru's eyes widened at the seriousness of his friend's tone, and looked between the two of you, unsure of what was going on. Once again, he was surprised to see that you hadn't even reacted to Hajime's gruff tone of voice. It wasn't every day that this happened. Hajime's voice was pleasantly husky, deepening just about everything to a command, usually leaving whoever he was talking to no time for thinking, or arguing. People just liked to listen to Hajime, he was one of those people who possessed a natural authority in their voice, in their appearance, and in the way they held themselves. It also helped that when Hajime did say something, it was never something stupid or unreasonable.

You, however, weren't listening at all, not even taking notice of his words.

"We could do it," you repeated stubbornly, finally looking away from the water, and at your unhappy friend who was still glaring at you. Tooru swallowed.

"Explain please, Y/n-chan? Why is Iwa-chan being brutish?" he asked, turning an easy smile on you. Once again, he was ignored.

Iwaizumi folded his arms, muscles flexing under his thin white shirt, his voice deepening into a warning growl. "Y/n." You only rolled your eyes. God, boys really acted like a wolf pack.

"Y/nnn~ Iwa-chan! What could we do?" Tooru finally whined. You still didn't answer, and neither did Hajime, who only scoffed, and turned around. "We're going home," he grunted.

But you still looked at the river, and that was when Tooru understood. "You're crazy!"

You shrugged. "I think we could cross over, it's not that deep. And if we hold hands, the current won't be a problem either."

"No, Y/n-chan. Iwa-chan and I maybe could cross over. There's no 'we' that includes you here."

You shook your head.

"You would be washed away!" Iwaizumi snapped at you, annoyance lacing his tone. You once again stubbornly shook your head at him, as always, ready to argue.

"I wouldn't be washed away."

"Uh-huh, sure." He rolled his eyes at you, but didn't force you to admit you were lying as he would have with Oikawa. Perks of being Y/n. You huffed, turned on your heels, and stomped on in the direction of home, arms crossed.

The two boys watched you for a moment as you marched on ahead, head proudly stuck in the air. They watched silently, and then they snickered as you tripped and fell on your knees.

"Ugh!" You shouted, frustrated. It didn't take long for the two boys to catch up to you, and when they did, without even asking if you were okay, Iwaizumi just picked you up and slung you over his shoulder. He made sure to be careful with your dress, despite the fact that it was already covered in mud.

For once, you didn't complain, and let your friend carry you. "This time, I'll let this slide. But I'll come back to this river one day, I promise."

"Sure thing, Y/n-chan."

What a goodbye adventure this was. It almost didn't feel like a goodbye, after all.

But alas, it was.


	15. Just keep swimming

That day at the train station, you only stared at your Mother in goodbye. She did the same, and maybe, to others, this action seemed incredibly cold, and it was, but still, in some strange way, this interaction was warmer than anything else you could have done. If you looked someone in the eye, whether you admitted it or not, you were acknowledging them. She asked you to come back safe, only when you already had your back turned to her. You nodded stiffly, but you couldn't bring yourself to look back at her. Instead, you picked up your suitcase and entered the train and took a deep breath. After you had found your seat, however, you watched your Mother through the window. 

You were grateful that she waited for the train to depart before she left.

Days before your departure from the Miyagi prefecture and your graduation from Kitagawa Daichii Junior High, your Mother had became nervous when around you. In truth, it was because she noticed only shortly before you were to leave that you had really changed. She noticed then how your looks had changed, your voice, and your way of talking. She noticed how you were growing up. You would be fifteen soon, and that age, for reasons she couldn't quite comprehend, scared her. She wanted you to stay fourteen forever.

She found that as it was, she could now only recognize you by your sharp eyes and turbulent words, and feared that as soon as you got another year older, you would change even more drastically. No matter how she treated you, it was a fact that you were your Mother's life, her only reason for existing. And if she didn't know you, she would know nothing in this world.

You let out a sigh against the soft seat, leaning backward and resting your head. It would be a somewhat long train ride, and even though you wanted to, you knew full well that you weren't going to get any sleep. There were just too many thoughts swirling around in your head.

Thoughts about your childhood friends, Tooru and Hajime, who you had said goodbye to, but who you would see again. The goodbye to them hadn't said that you wouldn't see each other again, no, in fact, it had spelled out that you would, but when you did, things would be different. You wouldn't be seeing them again as part of a trio, you would be seeing them as someone who was friends with a duo.

Your goodbye to your friend in school, Tobio, on the other hand, had been more final. You weren't sure if you would ever see him again, despite the words spoken. If you did, you would be happy, but if you didn't, it wouldn't destroy you, either.

Nevertheless, you remembered yesterday, the last day of school, somewhat fondly. You told yourself to remember that Kageyama Tobio above anything else.

━━━━┅━━━

Tobio was awkwardly leaning against a lamppost, drinking from his little milk carton. In his left hand, he was holding another one, which he reluctantly handed to you as he fell into step next to you. You looked up at him with a smile.

"You're walking me home?"

He nodded once. 

And you appreciated it, because you knew he had waited for at least an hour after his volleyball practice, just so that he could walk you home. You knew he wasn't the most patient of people, so this little gesture meant a lot.

"Which school are you going to now?" he asked stiffly, and you could tell that for some reason, holding a conversation with you today would be more difficult than usual. 

"We'll see. Mother has to choose. I'll do whatever," you answered, taking a loud sip from your own milk. It wasn't particularly good, but instead of questioning why Tobio drank this liquid everyday, you smiled and showed him a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes at you, and you snickered at the action.

"Shiratorizawa?"

"Maybe," you answered suspiciously. 

"I'll go there."

"Yes, with your math grades, I'm sure they'll be fighting over you," you teased him, but it seemed like he didn't even understand.

"No. I'm going for volleyball. You can get in on your math grades."

You sighed, stretched a little and gave a halfhearted nod. This topic was boring. "Maybe," you said again.

The two of you continued walking, and when he noticed how you shifted your bag every now and then, Tobio decided to snatch it away from you. You grabbed it right back, but of course, since he saw this as a challenge, he snatched it back from you again. You let him have it after that, if that was all it took for him to get that triumphant smile on his face...

He scoffed at you as you gave up, but his lips were twitching into a smile, and you noticed this, even as the night darkened around you. For what was probably the tenth time, you rolled your eyes, albeit fondly at your underclassman.

The two of you continued on in silence. And towards the end, you glanced at Tobio again.

He was already looking at you, and it wasn't in the look, we just happened to glance at each other at the same time, I think you're pretty to look at, kind of way - but rather in the I've been staring at you this entire time, Baka, don't you see I'm trying to get difficult words out kind of way.

The look shocked you, and you tripped unceremoniously in the dark, over air. 

"Boke! Y/n Boke," Kageyama grit out, but he caught you nevertheless. Why were you always the one being caught? Why could you never catch anyone in your arms?

You stood up quickly and smiled awkwardly. Tobio flicked your forehead. Neither of you commented on the fact that he had called you 'Y/n'. It was nice, you didn't want him to notice and stop.

"Thanks," you said. He looked at you, and you looked back at him, and then you burst out laughing even as he mumbled curses at you under his breath.

He shifted the bag on his shoulder, and as he did so, he noticed that something was about to fall out. He stopped in his tracks, and you watched him closely, the intense concentration in his eyes as he brought your bag back into his arms. He tried to push what you now realized was the present your teacher had given you back into the bag, but when that didn't work, he zipped the bag open and took it out so that he could make room for it first.

He halted, however, when he saw what it was. It was a DVD, the goodbye present your teacher had gifted you.

Finding Nemo.

Tobio looked at it curiously, and then at you, wordlessly telling you to explain. You laughed, and walked towards him so that the two of you were standing shoulder to shoulder. 

"The teacher gave it to me, said I should watch it. Everyone got a movie, but there were no cool ones."

"Cool ones?"

"Yeah, like you know, 'The Lord Of The Rings'?"

"You've watched that before. Can you watch it again?"

"Let's not utter heresies, Tobio, of course, I can watch it again. And again and again."

"Heresies?"

"Never mind."

You closed the bag for him before he could put the DVD back in. "Here, you watch it. I think you'll enjoy it more than me."

"It's for kids."

"Precisely," you teased, and he merely blinked before flicking your forehead again. 

"Baka."

When you finally reached your house, there was an awkward sort of silence, and it was unique to Tobio Kageyama. This awkward feeling could only arise when you were in his presence.

This was a goodbye, but were you supposed to shake hands? Hug each other? Wave?

He coughed, and you smiled slightly. 

But just as you were about to open your mouth to say something, anything, Tobio bowed to you, a full ninety degree bow. You flinched back, surprised. 

"What..."

"Thank you for being my friend!"

Your mouth parted at his sudden outburst. His fists were clenched at his sides.

That was what he had wanted to say before, when you had caught him looking at you so intensely. He had wanted to thank you for being his friend, his only friend.

You were at a loss for words, but Tobio did not raise himself up yet. Instead, he continued, "I'll watch your movie!"

Your movie?

"And I'll tell you what I thought the next time!"

The next time?

"Okay," was all you said, and you smiled, "I'll wait for that."

As soon as the words left your mouth, Tobio raised himself up, his ears flushed red, and gave you a curt nod. Then, he rushed away, as if someone were chasing him. Only when you reached the door did he slow down.

You watched him from the door as he walked away, and every so often he turned and waved timidly, awkwardly, still with that perpetual scowl on his face. He was scowling, but it wasn't in a mean way, if anything, this weird scowl of his expressed a certain kind of happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support! The comments and the kudos (? that’s what they’re called I think lmao) really made me happy! 
> 
> I’ll try to update more often!  
> And please, if you feel comfortable enough, tell me what you think of my story.


	16. Beautiful New Day

At the train station in Tokyo, you had to wait for an hour, your suitcase heavy in your sweaty palms, before you were finally picked up by a tall, dark haired young woman who introduced herself to you as Kuroo Kazashi. You didn't know her, she wasn't your teacher, but you were quickly able to put two and two together and deduce that she was your Piano Sensei's oldest and only daughter. You tried to return her warm greeting accordingly, but you were sure that you came off somewhat stiff and unresponsive at times.

You had just met the woman, after all, and here she was, ruffling your hair, straightening your collar, and squeezing your cheeks as if the two of you were close friends. You told yourself that you would get used to it... And since it wasn't like you disliked the affection she showed you, there really was no need to complain. You could deal with being a bit flustered.

Kuroo Kazashi was unbelievably tall, her skin was slightly tan, and her spiky dark hair was cut short in a messy way that seemed to emphasize her laidback manner. You thought she was incredibly pretty, even more so with her odd, but somehow stylish choice of clothes. She wore blue skinny jeans that hugged her figure, and a blazer with glued on colorful patches. Her huge sunglasses pulled her short hair back, showing off her glinting red cherry earrings. Accompanying the cherry earrings, Kazashi had both her hands covered in rings, at least six on each hand, and pink and green and gold bracelets wrapped around her wrists.

She only grinned teasingly at you when she caught you staring. That was when you noticed she also had drawn two blue stars underneath her crinkling eyes.

Her voice had a slight drawl to it, but you didn't find yourself at all put off by her teasing manner. While, yes, for reasons you couldn't name, you felt weirdly shy in her presence, it didn't stop you from engaging in conversations with her. Even though it was something somewhat rare for you, you liked listening to her talk. She had a nice voice.

And she did tell you a lot, how she was now studying, how she had just graduated a year before, and had rushed to get her driver's license. Something also told you that Kuroo Kazashi liked the sound of her own voice, and you had no problem with it. Every now and then, you would hum, nod, or ask a question. In a way, you were sure that you learnt more about Tokyo from her than you had ever in your visits or lessons. Well, at least, more about the real, current Tokyo.

"My mother has also prepared a nice, neat little room for you! It's not too big, but it's totally comfortable! Mom even went to buy you lots of plants, and they smell so good!"

In return, you felt slightly guilty, and had to try to express your gratitude, but somehow, Kazashi was able to shrug off those feelings by assuring you that her mother wanted nothing more than for you to be comfortable.

"I mean it, Y/n! Mom loves you... Wait can I call you Y/n? I'm not so good with formalities," she said, shooting you a glance. 

"Of course. You can call me whatever you want to, Kuroo-san," you stammered back immediately, straightening your shoulders. For a second, Kazashi just stared at you, but then, she suddenly, and without warning, burst into laughter. You flinched in surprise.

"Sorry, sorry! But relax a bit! You're not like most country bumpkins I've met!"

"Country bumpkins?"

"Y/n! Call me Kazashi, it's fine. You're perfect."

"Perfect?"

Admittedly, you did get lost every now and then in her conversations, but it was fine. She would always immediately regain her thread and start talking about something again.

This time, it was about how you would meet her little brother and his friend, and how there were various fun things planned for your summer stay. When you told her, sounding unsure even in your own ears, that you were here to study, she merely waved you off, and told you not to worry, that with her mother, there was always enough time to study.

"But fun is important, too," she added, as she helped you load your suitcase into the car. "It's not like studying is necessarily something that should be connected with feeling glum."

"No," you agreed quietly, "it shouldn't." But it often was... 

You felt as though it was a bit unusual: you were only Piano Sensei's student. And yet, you were invited to stay for the summer, free of charge, and as Kazashi had excitedly informed you, they even would be taking you to the ocean. You had never been, and admittedly, had the absurdity of the situation not bothered you, maybe you would have been able to express your excitement more openly.

"Is it nice? The sea?" A part of you already knew it was: while year after year you were left at home to study, both Tooru and Hajime had been on numerous occasions, and liked to tell you about those visits, too. You had been incredibly jealous, but had never mentioned it to them, telling them instead that you never wanted to go anyway, that you didn't care at all, and that you preferred the comfort the library provided.

"It is! I'm not like my mom, I don't see too much beauty in nature, I know, it's sad, but it's just there for me. And I don't like the things that are old, you know, the piano, the old books, and the old music, but even though the sea is old, I like the sea very much."

You weren't sure how to respond, but you tried nevertheless. You told her that when you had been six, eight or eleven, the green of the world had meant little to you, too. That the grass had been green because the grass was supposed to be, and in your head, that was a given, to be surrounded by green trees and green hills. Now, however, that you had visited parts of Tokyo, where things weren't always green, you realized that you found yourself often wanting to go back to the green. You had realized how important the green was.

Kazashi once again fell silent at your response, and for a second, you felt fearful that she thought you had said something stupid, something childish. You let out some stuttered phrases, meanwhile hitting yourself on the inside, wondering why ever you were behaving in the way you were. Never before had you really been reduced to a stuttering mess like this.

Kazashi cut you off with one of her rumbling chuckles, and she reached over to flick your nose in the car, before she started the ignition and began pulling out of the parking lot. "You talk like a smart person, mom told me that about you. Can't believe Kenma and I will be stuck in a house with three seniles."

"Uh, thank you," you mumbled back, still unsure. You mustered up the courage to ask another question.

"What makes you happy, then?" You knew your Piano Sensei quite well, knew she enjoyed the old music her daughter didn't, knew she wanted the world to change, but at the same time, keep the old things intact. You didn't, however, know Kazashi, and the idea of getting to know a only slightly older, educated woman, excited you greatly. You paid great attention to every detail as she spoke.

"I like peaceful things, small things. Reading is nice, I think. But not too much. I get happy when I can get up early to study. It's not always nice, and I'm not as smart as my brother, but I like focusing."

You soon also learned that Kuroo Kazashi was a woman who liked giving long, detailed answers. She was smart, and the way she spoke clearly told of the way she had been educated. Even though she had told you that you talked like a smart person, you felt that it was the other way around. The way she spoke was very refined, and yet still casual. It was a feat you had not yet been able to achieve.

You had to ask. "Is your brother like you?"

"He's smarter! He's good at chemistry, not as lazy as I am, and he likes doing sports. He's teasing though, acts like an old man, sometimes. So, you, him, and mom will be the three seniles."

"And who's Kenma?" you asked, remembering the name that had come up twice already now. It was a nice name.

"Tetsu's best friend, an absolute darling, ha. He's a bit like me on the lazy scale, and he too has Tetsu on his case all the damn time. He's staying with us for the summer, too. He always stays for at least a week, but this year, he'll stay longer."

"That sounds... nice."

She gave you a side glance, before quickly fixating her eyes back on the road. "Come on, tell me something about your friends. Mom says you usually can't shut up about them."

For the second time, you thought it was odd how much Kazashi knew about you, and you wondered, briefly, if that meant that Kazashi was also aware of your Mother, and the elaborate lie you and her mother had concocted together. You decided not to ask, however, and instead just to answer.

Kazashi made her own observations as you spoke. Only of the one named Hajime did you speak with nothing but respect, at length, and without attributing anything negative to him. Of the boy named Tooru, you also spoke positively, but there was a change in your tone, you spoke less, and at the end, you added one bitter remark. To Kazashi it also seemed that your voice took on a slightly artificial tone, and that while she could tell you cared deeply for this Tooru, you certainly didn't award him the same importance as you did your Hajime. And of the the last boy, the last friend that you mentioned, Tobio, you spoke praises that were affectionate, but not too in depth, not too deep. 

"You sure meet a lot of interesting people, Y/n. What's up with that?" she said teasingly, sending you a grin that you were now finally able to return. It was odd, but as soon you talked about your friends, about the life that you knew, a certain kind of confidence enveloped you again.

"That's because I'm interesting, too," you retorted quickly, in a manner that was very Y/n once again.

Kazashi merely laughed, and her laughter once again filled the car. She tended to laugh loudly, unafraid and in a free manner. 

"We'll be home soon, Y/n. Believe me, you'll love it."

You believed her.

You knew the house already, and you knew, too, that it was a nice house of medium size that your teacher spent a lot of time taking care of. She had told you once that gardening cleanses the soul, and at the time, you felt a bit offended, as she immediately after recommended you do some gardening with her. But now, looking at the deliberate ivy that clung to the house, climbing up the walls, you were able to deduce that she was right.

Just looking at the house and the garden, the white wood walls, the small, clean pond, and the big oak tree in the corner, you felt that something about the place which made it the epitome of comfort and serenity. You couldn't help but smile, and Kazashi, beside you, of course, noticed with a grin.

At that point, she dragged you inside, carrying your suitcase with apparent ease, while telling you excitedly that she wanted you to eat something together. She just let the suitcase down in the kitchen, threw her car keys on the counter, told you to wash your hands, and went to prepare some food for the two of you. Later, she said to you, her brother and his friend would come home, and after that, when her mother arrived, all of you would be having a big dinner together. 

Her grandparents, who lived here, too, apparently, were on a little trip around Japan, and would arrive in four days, after which Kazashi herself would leave in order to make room. She also added here that she, unlike 'Tetsu', didn't have the best relationship with her grandparents, so that it was for the best.

While you washed your hands, and splashed some water in your face, Kazashi unwrapped prosciutto and a sweet melon, cut slices of bread, placed two cans of lemon soda on the table, took some rice out of a Tupperware in the fridge, heated it up, and mixed it with the leftover shrimp she could find in the freezer. She worked quickly and efficiently, saturated the shrimp in the rich, thick and sweet sauce, and placed the two steaming bowls on the table. 

She needed barely ten minutes to make what to you already seemed like a full blown meal. She nevertheless called it a 'snack'.

You thanked her politely for the meal.

The two of you ate in relative silence, you were tired, and even Kazashi seemed to have done enough talking on the ride home. It was a comfortable silence, and towards the end, Kazashi told you that she felt like talking a nap after this. She quietly pointed in the direction of the guest room after the two of you had cleared the table and quickly washed off the used plates.

She yawned, raised a hand and told you to settle in while she committed herself to some hibernation.

You were then left alone in a house with more books than your local library.

━━━━┅━━━

When Kenma arrived, he did so before Kuroo, who was still on his way to pick up the food, and at first, he wasn't sure what to make of the sight of an unfamiliar girl lying in the living room, on his best friend's favorite blue sofa.

He decided not to comment, he knew Kuroo was expecting a guest.

You were analyzing the pages of a book, lying on your front, your head angled in a way that made you seem incredibly small. If not for the intense look of concentration on your face, he would have thought you were curling up to hide or cry. But he could tell by your expression, the furrowed eyebrows, drawn together in slight confusion, the pouting lips and the crinkled nose, that you were merely absorbed in your own world.

He recognized that look, after all. Whenever he was stuck on some level, and things weren't going his way, well, he'd been told that his face could be incredibly expressive at those times. Kenma didn't want to bother you, or, didn't want you to bother him if he bothered you. So, he didn't greet you, didn't announce his presence, and just slowly let himself down on the loveseat opposite from the sofa. You, miraculously, didn't notice, still lying curled into a ball, and even turned so that your back was now facing him.

Kenma didn't spare you another glance, instead taking out his phone, muting it to avoid confrontation, and playing in silence. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of his fingers tapping away at the screen, and you turning the pages of your book.

This went on for about an hour, until you finally, and with a dazed look on your face, raised your head and spotted the black haired boy sitting on loveseat across from you. As always, your first reaction was to flinch backward, drawing in a sharp breath.

"Oh. Hello," you breathed out, carefully placing the book on the glass table in front of the sofa. You hesitantly sat up, running a hand through your hair. 

The two of you blinked at each other for a moment.

The boy in front of you was of average height, smaller than all your friends back home, and with the way he was hunching over his screen, he seemed even smaller. But he had cat-like golden eyes and black hair that framed his face. For a second, the sight of him scared you, with the way his head was angled downwards, the golden eyes, and the black hair hanging around his face. He looked like a scene from a horror movie, but in the end, his causal sweatpants and sweater that you could only question (it was summer, after all), stopped you from saying something. It wasn't hard to figure out that he was not Piano Sensei's tall son, but rather the best friend, Kenma.

He nodded at you once, let his eyes skim over you with his phone still in front of his face, before he focused once again on the device in his hands.

"I'm Kenma, nice to meet you," he muttered.

His first name?

"Uh. I'm Y/n, it's nice to meet you, too."

This was another kid your age, in the house you were going to live in. This marked the end of a certain part of your life. You shot him a glance as these thoughts ran through your head.

You were going to have fun this summer, whether you liked it or not.

"So, what are you playing?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: i know this update was sorta boring, and it acted as a filler, BUT— yeah,, this marks the end of arc one. we start with arc two now. thank you so much for the support! 
> 
> i have two questions, if anyone wants to answer...
> 
> 1\. who do you ship y/n with the most?   
> 2\. what do you think of y/n? hate, or love her?
> 
> thank you again for all the support!


	17. Want Some New Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the delayed update, but at least I have two prepared for today. I hope they don’t bore you guys... And I hope that if anyone wants to criticize my horrible Kenma and Kuroo characterization that they feel free to do so...

It was something you had always known, and always hated, the fact that in some people, you could see other people. The people your age especially, you realized, tended to mimic opinions and thoughts of others, until they aligned completely with their own, and everything merged into one, so that you could no longer distinguish one from the other. People spoke with invisible quotation marks, not even realizing how their words sounded off to you, stiff, and maybe even pretentious. You hated it, hated people like that, and you always had.

Sometimes, you'd see characteristics of this in your friend, Tooru, and it was something that always worried you. When you felt your insecurities, you'd wonder if he could really be trusted with them. At one time, during that time of confusion, where your body first started changing due to puberty, and you felt as though there was a second living organism joining you in your body, you even felt that his answers, no matter what, were lies. While you always trusted Hajime, you found yourself unable to award Tooru with that same trust. 

It was because of those quotation marks, and because of that lack of reality that you attributed to him. Maybe not rightfully so.

This fear, this distrust, you remembered had even at one time revealed itself in a petty, unnecessary fight. It was completely your fault, but at the time, you didn't know, didn't care, and didn't feel like you had to take responsibility for it.

Tooru had once mentioned something to you about your hair. It was a very innocent remark, meant even in a nice way, but your reaction showed that whatever he said, and he said a lot, you would no matter what understand it in a way that painted him as a figure unworthy of trust. It was a confusing time.

"Did you do something new with your hair, Y/n-chan?"

"No, I didn't do anything."

"You look different."

"What's wrong with my hair?" What's wrong with me?

"Nothing." Did that nothing of his mean 'everything'?

"If you noticed something now, it means that there is now something wrong."

"No. It looks nice, Y/n-chan."

"You lie."

"I just said it looks different! But a good different."

"You lie."

"You're so difficult, Y/n-chan! Why do you always do this?"

"I'm not. You just always lie. I don't want to hear your voice anymore, I'm going home."

The next day, of course, you apologized for your horrible behavior, but Tooru wasn't upset, said he understood, even teased you about your out of bound emotions, and never bothered to bring up the conversation again. Yes, that was also something he did. Whenever you caused trouble, and fought with him, he would later switch the word 'fight' to 'conversation', and then continued treating you the way he always had, as if you had done nothing wrong, as if you could do nothing wrong.

And while you appreciated this, you took away two things from this conversation. One, despite the fact that you often hurt him with words, Tooru acted as if those instances never happened, and pretended at all times that everything was fine; and two, that whenever he spoke, once again with that pretending quality, he used quotation marks. How often had people on this planet used the words "No, you look nice" or "No, don't worry, there's nothing wrong with you", while lying directly to your face? And was he using those quotation marks, too, when he said "No, everything is fine, Y/n-chan!"?

Who was he mimicking? 

You didn't know, it was hard, after all, with people like that. But you did, however, know immediately when people weren't like that, and it made you happy, because Kozume Kenma, in front of you, was someone who wasn't like that at all. It was the first thing you noticed about him, actually. Somehow, without giving himself to the world of thoughts, he remained capable of conducting an effortless analysis of that which stood in front of him. There was no room for pretending there.

In a way, he was exactly that what you had pretended to be in the younger years of your life.

He was someone who could do many things without devoting himself wholeheartedly. And he was good at what he did, too.

Kenma, somehow, seemed to you effortless, in the best possible way.

You had situated yourself next Kenma, looking over his shoulder at the game he was playing. You didn't really understand, neither why he went swish-swish with his character, nor why he kept aggressively tapping against his phone.

You leaned closer to the game and narrowed your eyes. You were trying to understand, because that was what you did best.

"Why did you move that way?"

"Because the other way is boring," Kenma mumbled, not looking at you. You had learned quickly that Kenma preferred not to make eye contact with you, and he had been incredibly awkward when you first tried to hold a proper conversation, which then in turn prompted you to give up.

Instead, you now opted to listen, to ask short questions, and to watch in silence. Sometimes, when he didn't want to answer, you just made up for the silence by telling him stories about your life.

But for the most part, you mulled over his answers in your head, and learned a lot about games, how it wasn't only about winning, but about solving; there was an enjoyment factor to playing games, one that you could not yet comprehend.

Kenma shot you glances every now and then, studying you halfheartedly, trying to figure out what to make of you, without wasting too much effort on it. At first glance, you were a bit much. You had very bright eyes, and you talked very clearly, with pretty words, and metaphors, too. You didn't seem to know much about his games, but you listened, nevertheless. And then when you asked questions, you asked them with surprising knowledge, and they were interesting questions, always. You made his head blur a bit, especially when you picked up on things quickly and shot questions right back at him.

It was nice, but at the same time, odd. He didn't talk to a lot of girls, they didn't like him, and he didn't like them. He liked Kuroo's sister, but other than that, girls had always been something very far away and foreign. 

In school, he would talk to only one girl, and she was Kuroo's classmate, and lab partner, but he distinctly remembered feeling nervous, anxious— or, well, those weren't the right words, maybe the right word for it was 'uneasy'. He felt uneasy in her presence. Watanabe Hina was a very pretty girl, and pretty girls were supposed to make you nervous. That was the normal, expected reaction.

With you, though, it was different. Really, it was odd: he did think you were pretty, but he didn't at all feel nervous with you. He was fine with listening to you, too; he found you had a nice voice, and he supposed that he found some of your stories interesting. You talked very quickly though, and it annoyed him so much that he could feel his left eye twitch from time to time. Did you not feel the need to breathe?

He distractedly hummed at you in response every now and then, and kept his head down, eyes fixated on his screen, as the hours went by. Where you felt slightly lonely in the big house, he felt comforted by it, even if you were still there.

"Kenma, what do you think we'll be doing tomorrow? Kazashi said it's a surprise."

"Something annoying, it's always like that when she's here," he mumbled, lips pointing down. He shot you a brief, serious glance, before he let his eyes flit away again. You had on a weird thoughtful expression, and he didn't like it. Couldn't you stick to one facial expression for at least a second?

Everything happened so quickly around you. And if he had to name that feeling, he felt that it was like constantly being rushed to do something, to act.

"Like what?"

He sighed softly, and his glare fixated on the window. He lazily raised his hand and gestured to the mountains one could see in the distance.

"Like climbing those hills. It's horrible. And everyone starts sweating, and then it gets cold, too." 

He aggressively tapped at his screen, as if the mere thought upset him. He drew his eyebrows together, narrowing his eyes to slits. He looked a bit like a cat, you thought, as you observed him.

"With hills you mean mountains?"

Kenma raised his head from his screen again, a glare on his face that told you he was secretly sending laser beams at you. He blinked at you for some moments, before shaking his head lightly and waving a annoyed, dismissive hand at you.

"Whatever... Y/n, can I go back to my game now?"

You said no, but he still went back to his game.

━━━━┅━━━

It was almost like a scene in a movie: the door opened with a bang, a voice drawled out a steady "guess who", and then there was the sound of footsteps, and the sound of the door being slammed shut again. Kenma and you exchanged a glance, but Kenma's was more exasperated than yours, more annoyed: he knew who this was, while you could only guess.

But you were smart, so your guess was correct.

Kuroo Tetsurou.

Kenma returned back to his game almost immediately, making it quite clear he didn't care to get up to greet the new arrival. You hesitated, as the sound of the water running could be heard (probably Kuroo washing his hands), but then continued staring at the kitchen table from your spot on the couch. The kitchen was connected to the living room by a huge, wide open door, and you could enter into the kitchen by a door on the right. That's where Kuroo would come in.

"He's loud," Kenma mumbled.

"Uh, yeah."

You shifted in your seat, drumming your fingers in slight anticipation.

Kuroo walked inside the kitchen, a bag slung over one shoulder while his other hand was hidden in his pocket. He carried himself with a lazy confidence and the teasing brown eyes - which to some degree seemed both amused and sleepy - were nevertheless still filled with a certain kind of kindness. Somehow, the fact that you could see all this with just one glance relieved you.

You stopped fidgeting.

He looked like he very much belonged to the family with your Piano Sensei, and Kazashi, you thought, tilting your head. Unintentionally, you forgot your manners, lost in thought, and remained seated as the boy silently stared at you, then at Kenma, and then at you again, with his lips curled into a smile. Slowly, he raised a hand in greeting.

He copied you by tilting his head as well, taking some steps into the living room so that he was in front of the two of you. He smirked down at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Are you Kenma's friend?"

He looked over your shoulder with a grin to Kenma who was sitting behind you, absorbed in his game, looking bored. Kenma didn't even look up once to acknowledge the presence of his friend.

"You could say that. He won't," you shrugged, also turning so that the two of you were staring at the oblivious setter together.

"Kenma, is this kid your friend?" he asked Kenma this time, teasingly, and leaning down slightly. He ignored your immediate fierce glare, but something told you he knew exactly who you were, just like you knew exactly who he was.

"I'm probably the same age as you," you told him seriously, but your eyes shifted to the side. Maybe not exactly the same age...

He grinned. "I'm a second year, you, too?"

"Yes." No.

His eyes flicked back to yours, amused that you had answered reflexively. He hooked his mouth into a half-smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Nakata-san. I'm Kuroo Tetsuroo."

He gave you a slight bow of the head. 

He did know who you were.


	18. THE DULL ACHE

You had never seen your Piano Sensei look as she did then. The moment she walked in through the doorway and saw you, her eyes shone with tears and her whole body seemed to shiver. She also seemed suddenly a bit older than usual, which at the same time, wasn't that unusual at all as she did look a bit older than she was. Nevertheless, you felt odd as she walked towards you in brisk steps, and enveloped you in a tight hug. You held her close, even as you noticed that your teacher had combed her spiky hair for once, had put in earrings, and was wearing heels. She didn't at all seem like the Piano Sensei you usually visited to study, and you weren't quite sure what to make of this peculiar change.

You were embarrassed, but pleased by the show of affection. 

When she told her son to get his sister, Kuroo complied with a salute and a "yes, ma'am" as he sauntered towards the door and up the stairs. Kenma rolled his eyes at the sight, and you let out a nervous giggle, and fidgeted a bit.

Kenma tossed you a glance, studied you a minute, then said, "Stop shaking. It's weird."

In your head, you agreed with him, of course you did, because it actually was weird, not just in general (that, too), but more so weird for your character. Health reasons aside, you were not a shaker. Taking a deep breath, you pushed these thoughts away to focus on your teacher again. You were a guest here (although a voice in your head told you that you more resembled a parasite), and you didn't want to appear rude, or ungrateful.

Your Piano Sensei grinned broadly as all of you sat down at the table. She sat at the head of the table, with Kuroo beside her on one side, and you beside Kuroo, and Kazashi beside her on the other, with Kenma beside her. Kenma looked tired, Kuroo looked relaxed in a somehow amused manner, and Kazashi, stretching, looked proud. She had been the one to cook, after all.

There was a lot of food on the table, and right in front of you, steaming hot, there was a huge plate of Yakitori, the bite-sized cuts of chicken grilled on a skewer. Kuroo sent you a look when he saw you glance around in bewilderment, especially when your gaze caught on the foreign dishes. There were two wooden bowls of Jiâozi, and Kazashi had eagerly lifted off the cover, so that the smell of the boiled dumplings came wafting in your direction. If you had to guess, you would say the first bowl, the boiled one, was filled with minced pork, while the second, the steamed bowl, was filled with various vegetables.

Your gaze moved onward. There was also the traditional miso soup placed right in front of you to the left, and your particular bowl was topped with wakame seaweed. Kazashi and Kuroo both had green onions as their toppings, while Kenma had no topping, and your Piano Sensei had added firm tofu to the mix.

Everyone had little bowls of rice in front of them, and there were various options on what you could add to your bowl. Shrimp, vegetables, egg and green onion, and lots and lots of mushrooms, cooked in a delicate style. You eyed the small tomatoes, wrapped in beef slices as thin as paper, and drizzled in a green sauce.

There was so much, an amazing assortment of traditional and modern food, foreign (mostly Chinese) and from home. Some foods were fried, some pickled, some boiled, and some roasted. Kazashi had by the looks of it used fresh greens only, and there was aubergine, there were radishes, and sesame seeds, too.

"It's usually Kazashi who cooks. I can't because I work so much, and while Tetsu can cook, he doesn't, because he experiments with the food too much, and tries out too many risky dishes. Kazashi also doesn't really like doing it, but sometimes she sleeps until three in the afternoon, wakes up and feels like cooking, and then she goes on to cook enough for an army. We usually eat the leftovers of that during the week, but today Kazashi made a special dinner for us today."

"It looks amazing," you whispered.

"Don't tell me that, tell me if it tastes amazing," she scolded eagerly, reaching forward to grab your rice bowl before you could even move a muscle.

With her chopsticks, she placed shrimp on your rice, drenched in the creamy sauce for you. The shrimp were small, as you preferred, peeled, tender and fried to a crisp, surrounded by roasted cashew nuts. 

As she handed you back your bowl, Kazashi grabbed her own chopsticks, and lifted one of the tender shrimp to her mouth. She grinned after swallowing.

Everyone slowly started eating, and you thanked Kazashi softly for the food, before you raised your own chopsticks. The shrimp tasted soft, and the nutty taste mixed with the olive oil almost made you shiver. You had never known that food could taste this good. You smiled wide, a toothy smile at the older girl, which caused her to laugh, and reach over to pat your head affectionately.

"It tastes amazing, too!"

"I know. Thank you, Y/n."

As you ate, and it was simply delicious, you noticed something, and narrowed your eyes at the dishes. Kazashi caught you staring, and she gave you a smile that told you she was expecting you to criticize something. 

You narrowed your eyes some more. Some of the food was foreign, some of it was traditionally from Tokyo, but most of it, you realized, was was cooked in the delicate Kyoto style.

"Have you lived in Kyoto?"

There was a short pause. Your Piano Sensei beamed at you, and Kazashi shook her head with a grin.

"Wow, yes, yes I have! That's where I learned to cook, and that's why there are two plates of nishin soba. That's all I wanted to eat back then."

You nodded, glancing at the warm and light noodle soup dish made with herring and soba. You had never tasted it before. 

"Do you like to cook, too?"

You shook your head no.

"Stop showing off. Nakata-san will think you usually cook like this," Kuroo drawled, and Kenma nodded grimly beside you. Even your Piano Sensei grimaced slightly, as if a very unpleasant image had just been conjured up in her head.

"Don't listen to enemy propaganda, Y/n," Kazashi hissed.

"Uh, okay."

Kuroo waved his hands in an exasperated gesture. "She spent days practicing to cook this food, and it was not enjoyable eating that practice food."

He was only teasing, you could see that, and most importantly, you felt that Kazashi could see by the way she hid her grin from her brother.

But to check whether or not Kuroo was right, you looked to your Piano Sensei, and when she avoided your gaze, you could tell it was the truth. Kazashi spluttered theatrically, and Kenma's glared hardened as he munched on his skewered meat.

"Can you not whine while you're gobbling up the dumplings I made with my blood, sweat and tears?"

"Oh, so that's the weird taste. I wasn't so sure before," Kuroo immediately shot back, a grin curling on his lips. Kazashi merely grumbled into her rice, before wiping her expression clean and turned to you, eyes gleeful once again.

"Y/n. Why aren't you taking a picture? Isn't my food pretty?"

You opened and closed your mouth, clenching your shirt in your fist, trying and failing to come up with a suitable answer. She was joking, you knew that immediately, teasing you, and doing it in an obvious manner by painting her voice in an obnoxious tone. To sell it even more when you didn't respond immediately, Kazashi twirled a strand of hair around her finger. It was obvious, but still, to you, the question was a hard one...

In the end, it was your teacher who came to your rescue.

"Y/n doesn't have a phone, not yet, at least. But that's something we can talk about," she said seriously, looking at her son, "Tetsu, please."

Kuroo nodded, fixating you with a smile that now for the first time had no hint of any teasing in it. "We'll go pick up your phone tomorrow at the store, okay? It's my old one, but if you don't mind, you can have it. We just had the screen repaired, and your Okaasan agreed to pay the bills, and all."

"... agreed to pay?"

Your teacher nodded. "Eagerly even, said you deserve it, and that she was meaning to get you one anyway."

She rolled her eyes as she said the last part, and frowned exasperatedly, putting sarcastic emphasis on the 'meaning to'.

You stared.

But after you spent the next few minutes thanking your teacher profusely, and she kept reassuring you heartily, telling you over and over that everything was alright, a new topic emerged, and it was one that you could see was meant to drag Kenma into a conversation he was intent on not having. Kazashi was the one doing the prodding as you noticed was the norm, but her brother wasn't far behind.

"Oh, come on, Kenma. Join the volleyball club, it'll be fun."

"I don't want to," Kenma mumbled back.

"Why not?"

"I just don't want to," Kenma grumbled back at Kazashi, playing a bit with his food, "and it's not like you ever played in High School."

"Oh, so it's about me now?" She pretended to be offended, but she was laughing loudly again, while Kenma rolled his eyes again and again. You worried his eyes would get stuck.

The rest of the dinner continued on in that manner, topics switching every now and then, but never straying to anything too serious again. The mention of your mother had been the only time the joking tone was turned off.

There was talk about your teacher's work, and although this was a conversation mostly for Kazashi and her mother, Kuroo added some teasing remarks every now and then, and even Kenma, only at Kazashi's expense, also joined in with some lazy remarks when she was being particularly loud. Sometimes, Kazashi or your teacher would ask you questions, too, obviously ones that were meant to include you, but after the first few, they noticed that you were more than content to watch and observe.

Towards the end, however, your teacher drew you away from your observations and back to the main conversation. She was talking about the next day.

"I think you can all have a nice long sleep tonight, you especially Y/n, after that long train ride. You must be tired."

You nodded hesitantly, but actually no, not really, you didn't feel any physical tiredness at all. There was some sort of exhaustion lingering in your chest, but this exhaustion had nothing to do with your limbs or your mind. It was just the sort of exhaustion that left you with a light, barely noticeable stinging in your heart.

Your teacher saw the look in your eyes and nodded grimly. 

"In the morning, Tetsu can take you to the store, and show you a bit around the neighborhood. Kenma, too, if he wants to come."

You immediately hoped Kenma wanted to as your teacher was finishing her sentence, but the minute those words were out of her mouth, Kenma raised his head and shook his head. He said, clearly, and without hesitation , "I don't want to."

And that was the end that. Kazashi even cackled, as if to signify that.

"And after that?" Kuroo asked, who was already beginning to stack some of the plates in his immediate reach. Most plates, however, were not empty yet, and therefore not stack-able.

"Hmm, we'll see. Y/n does have to study, but we have lots of time, don't we? You can do whatever tomorrow, I don't think hiking will be an option this week, but we'll have to see."

━━━━┅━━━

After clearing up, and another five minutes or so of you thanking everyone, and then some passed around words bidding everyone goodnight, Kazashi led you up the stairs, explaining this and that on the way, labeling things as such and such, and making wild gesture at this door and that door.

She stopped to show you which bathroom you could use, told you where you could put your laundry, and even handed you a heavy bag of clothes.

"Those are mine! I looked at them after my nap and thought maybe instead of your wool dresses, you'd like something like this for the summer," she told you excitedly, once again with waving away your words of gratitude.

"Don't thank me like that. My ego really might become too much to handle, and I have to be able to at least lift my head. It'll be hard if my head gets any bigger."

Kazashi showed you your room, and it was a neat little thing, with lots of green plants, and walls of pristine white. The walls were plastered with various old-looking posters, mostly of strange Japanese cartoon shows of the eighties. A white desk sat in one corner, small but practical-looking, and definitely big enough for you. Books were stacked evenly on one side, while the other was littered with pieces of paper in folders, and some odd pens here and there. There was also a tiny closet, and one shelf filled with books.

You told her earnestly how much you loved it, and Kazashi beamed, walking out to the hall again to lean over the railings and yell something down to her mother. Some sort of affirmation that you liked your room, no doubt. Your Piano Sensei responded something you couldn't quite make out in a happy tone of her own, to which Kazashi's grin became even wider.

She grabbed your hand. "Let me show you the other rooms!"

And so you were dragged around from room to room, accompanied and guided by a excited Kazashi who seemed intent on reliving the backstory of every single curtain and potted plant. It didn't bother you, her tone of voice was fascinating, and you didn't mind looking at that excited expression of hers.

It felt almost as if you had made your first friend who was a girl...

At one point, she dragged you inside her brother's room, and placed a finger on her lips. You looked around curiously.

Kuroo didn't have pin-ups in his room, but you knew that neither Tooru nor Hajime had ever had any either, despite the fact that a lot of the other boys in the neighborhood proudly showed off theirs. Still, at the very least, they always had something fun, something that you could at least understand. Tooru at one point, although he was now deeply embarrassed about it, had even pinned up some blonde American actress he had taken a liking to after watching some Hollywood movies. His posters were never anything indecent though, and the only other poster you even remembered clearly was his Michael Jackson one, which to this day still confused you, as you never caught him listening to any of his songs. But it made you happy since that poster gave you the excuse you needed to pester him to play Michael Jackson songs when you were over at his place, and maybe more importantly, you remembered feeling a swell of pride in your chest later on when you found the old CD your father had once owned and gifted it to him as a birthday present. You weren't like them, you didn't have any money, weren't allowed to make any either, so you were happy that at least for once your present wasn't totally horrible, and that you didn't have to feel that otherwise familiar shameful burn in your chest when the time for birthdays came around.

Hajime didn't like you in his room, you were always aware of that, even if you didn't understand his reasoning, but you nevertheless knew quite a bit about his room. He never put up any western actresses, nor any Japanese ones. He did, however, for a certain amount of time, put up not one, not two, but three posters of a girl group. You couldn't even call it his favorite, but he liked some of the songs, and that was enough for the girl group to join his old Godzilla posters that he had bought at the cinema years ago. By now though, all of the girl group posters were gone again.

But Kuroo had no pin-ups, no pictures of him, his friends or his family, and no posters of stars or actresses, no, Kuroo had chemistry posters and pictures of mountains in Europe. 

Mountains in Europe... 

You turned on Kazashi with a raised brow and she gleefully took in your expression. Surely, most teenage boys didn't have European mountains in their room, did they?

Kazashi's expression became more and more mischievous.

"Oh, Tetsu likes to masturbate looking at his chemistry charts and European mountains, no biggie," she cackled, a glint in her eyes.

You laughed, too, but that was soon put to an end when Kuroo came into his room, saw the two of you, and raised one eyebrow. Surprisingly, he wasn't mad, he just looked at his sister in the usual way, leaning against the doorway of his room. Then he turned his eyes on you.

"Sorry, Kuroo-san," you whispered.

He didn't move from his position in the doorway, he kept his hands in his jacket pockets and smirked lightly at your expression. But it wasn't a mean smirk, it was just one filled with amusement. 

Kuroo just gave you slight nod of his head, and a "See ya later" as Kazashi dragged you out of his room behind her.

━━━━┅━━━

Never had you imagined things would go so well. Not only were you welcomed with open arms, you were also treated with respect, and everyone was trying to make you feel comfortable, as if this was something completely normal, as if your presence wasn't something disruptive, but rather something everyone here desired.

It made you feel so happy it hurt, and that same exhaustion in your heart returned in a dull throb. 

The tour of the house told you a lot, all you needed to know, and after, you spent your time unpacking, washing up and getting ready for bed. You took your time, pretending in a made up game that you were a rich princess. You combed your hair, put on one of your old white dresses, and pretended it was a night gown. 

You still made sure to keep quiet, now painfully aware of how close everyone was in the house. You knew exactly where everyone slept. The room directly next to yours belonged to Kenma (it was Kazashi's old room before she had left for university), while Kuroo was in the room next to his, and Kazashi's guest room was the one opposite to yours. Your Piano Sensei had her room downstairs, next to the living room. 

Keeping your voice down, you allowed yourself to continue with some fun, but as the night darkened around you, and you were left alone in your unfamiliar room, you noticed that your mood darkened, too. You abruptly stopped playing games, and tried to read something instead.

You read until the pages blurred in front of your eyes, but by that time, it was dark outside your window, and you were sure almost everyone else was asleep. The house was eerily quiet, and you felt again that pain in your chest, more prominent now than ever before.

You had gone from unbelievably happy to silently depressed within a few minutes, and you were having trouble wrapping your head around that.

Why did you suddenly feel so sad? So frightened at the prospect of falling asleep?

Maybe it was because your life at that moment just to you seemed too complete, and maybe, it was also one of your curses, the fact that you always felt the need to break your own happiness once you experienced it for a period of time you deemed to be 'too long'. As a punishment, you see, because you were mean, someone who made others sad, and did that knowingly. 

But still, there was nothing new for you to be sad about at this moment, and there was no one to miss, because even if you had stayed at home, you surely wouldn't have been able to see your friends everyday, as your Mother would have strictly kept you inside to study... and aside from them? 

Who else did you have?

Surely, missing your Mother was impossible. You didn't care for her in the slightest, she even scared you... But still, somehow, now that you were alone, the unfamiliar walls of the house, the unfamiliar softness of the bed— everything, all of it, somehow seemed wrong. 

You wanted your Mother to scream at you, maybe because you knew the worst possible outcome of any situation if you did something wrong with her... But you didn't know how these people here would react if you did one thing, and this, you realized scared you, and you wanted to go home immediately. 

One voice asked: even to your Mother? 

Another confirmed grimly: especially to your mother.

You felt the muscles of your chin begin to tremble like those of small children looking at their ice cream on the floor. Somewhat frantically, you looked at the unfamiliar room for something to soothe you, but you found nothing, because even the white window that looked a bit like yours, showed a view that was unfamiliar and therefore scary to you. As your fear mounted, so did your heavy breathing.

The urge to cry came to you in one powerful sweeping gesture, and it was as if all your walls broke down with that powerful wave, and your hot tears started spilling out of your eyes. Seconds passed, and cries turned into muffled sobs that wracked your chest.

You listened to your own sounds as you cried, with a sort of disgust you couldn't place. You sounded like a child, and you were sure you looked like one as well. The only thing that could really comfort you there was the fact that at least nobody could read your mind and find out that you thought like one, too.

You cried, and cried, and somehow, it felt a bit like a scene out of a movie, because you knew the feeling well without ever having experienced it before. You were homesick.

And the Merriam-Webster dictionary defined that as a longing for home and family when being absent from them. It was so wrong, so confusing. Was it possible to even miss the bad things? Your Mother's failed attempts at cooking, her always watching you eat with a glare (she, herself never ate anything, and when she did, it was only some pieces of an apple, and she'd always go to the bathroom after), her telling you to always abide to the strict bedtime she imposed on you, her telling you to put on extra layers because she refused to turn on the heater, her— it went on, your Mother just being unpleasant. How could one miss that?

You didn't know, but that allowed you to continue to cry, in that confusion that enveloped you. You noticed none of your surroundings, and no sounds, not even the sound of footsteps outside of your door. You were lost in your own world of grief, oblivious to all else.

And Kenma, just as he was about to go to bed, so that he could wake up early again to play his games, halted in front of the bathroom upon hearing your sounds. It was the sound of crying coming from your room. Quietly, and hesitantly in response to those cries, he stepped in front of your closed door and listened. 

He didn't want to admit it, but you sounded terrified as you cried, and for a moment he debated whether or not to wake someone up to help you. Every now and then, you would let out gasps, and he couldn't bring himself to just go back to bed again without doing anything. At the same time, he made up his mind, knowing that there was no way he'd ever talk to you like this. He didn't know you, and besides, hearing you cry, he realized after a moment that while you sounded frightened, it seemed that you were scared, not of anything in the external world, but more so threatened by something that was happening to you from within. What did he know about things like that?

Kazashi, or anyone else, really, would do a better job, he knew that. He had quietly watched you during the dinner, noticed how you kept making your googly eyes at Kazashi, and how you already seemed familiar with her, and he knew that while you had seemed more willing to talk when he had been alone with you, your admiration for Kazashi hadn't gone unnoticed. Additionally, he was sure you would prefer a girl's company over his own, even if said girl was a bit older than you.

Not that she seemed like it, but Kazashi tended to transcend things like age norms.

Kenma, without saying a single word, walked towards Kazashi's room not far from yours, and opened the door, being careful not to be too careful. Kazashi would be awoken by your cries or by him opening her door, and she'd be able to comfort you.

And after making sure your cries were audible enough in Kazashi's room, he quickly disappeared back into his own room, and waited for something to happen.

He only fell asleep when ten minutes later, he could hear Kazashi's comforting tone, and your hiccups.

━━━━┅━━━

When you came down the next morning in your pajamas, exhausted from crying, dragging both your legs behind you, you came down only to find Kuroo and Kenma already conversing in the kitchen. You slumped. Despite your state, you had wanted to prepare breakfast for all of them, because while you were tired, your sadness from the night before had mostly dissipated with the rise of the sun, and Kazashi's late night words of comfort.

She had said nothing, really, but her nothing was something that nevertheless amounted to something. A small something that comforted you and your cries.

Upon your arrival, Kenma dragged his tired-looking eyes away from Kuroo, and to you. His glare softened slightly when he looked at your disheveled state. 

"What are you doing up, Nakata-san?" Kuroo asked you, keeping his voice down. He leaned forward a bit on the table, propping up his face in his hands. Unlike Kenma, unlike you, Kuroo didn't seem tired in the slightest. His hair did look messy, but it had looked like that in the evening, too.

"Huh?"

He grinned at your reply.

"You should sleep."

"You guys are up, too."

But for some reason, Kuroo wouldn't stop. He kept on telling you to go back up to sleep, and surprisingly, Kenma joined in, too, at one point. They kept repeating it, Kuroo teasing, Kenma annoyed, again and again, so that eventually, you felt that you had no choice but to listen, and reluctantly trudged up the stairs again.

You suspected they didn't like you, but at the same time you knew that they were too nice for that, and that if they did dislike you, it wouldn't be something you would notice. There had to be another reason behind it, but you didn't know them nearly well enough to guess what it could be.

Nevertheless, you felt too guilty to sleep, and too restless to read. Instead, you straightened up what you could once again, and tidied yourself up as best as you could with some of the clothes Kazashi had said she would like you to wear.

You combed your hair, washed you face, and played around with this and that, in a silly, childlike way that both pleased and embarrassed you. It felt good to try on and discard things.

And in the end, nearly an hour later, you wore one of Kazashi's light blue crop shirts over a black T-shirt, red and blue dotted cotton shorts, and white tennis shoes. You also reluctantly remembered Kazashi's pleas from the night before and hesitantly put on the red and blue hat that also matched with the shirt and pants. 

In those fitting clothes, you looked slim but not in a unhealthy way like before, and with those clothes, it didn't matter that parts of your body still resembled those of a child: you looked good, and it made you feel good, too. 

Something told you Kazashi knew a lot about all kinds of clothes and how clothes could change the way you looked, even if her style seemed to veer more in the direction of odd and modern. Her clothes were still befitting of her.

You decided to go back down then, and you tried to paint a smile on your face that hid how guilty you felt about not really helping around the house.

When you came down, with that smile and that mindset, you nevertheless felt a lurch in your stomach because everyone was out and about already, and you had to watch your Piano Sensei, and Kazashi move around in the kitchen, bustling and doing this and that. You watched them silently in the doorway for a minute, but you made no move to join them, not until you heard Kenma's lazy tone of voice in your ear.

"You're here again."

You looked at him.

"Yes."

"Hmm," he said in return, and his tone was just as absent-minded as it had been the day before, and yet, somehow, you felt there was a difference, because as he said this uncaring response, his eyes wouldn't leave yours, and he continued on studying you intently. 

A moment passed and then, as his gaze remained unwavering, a certain terror struck you. 

Something in his expression... 

You knew that he had heard you cry, and your mood shattered once again, just like that. You looked away in shame, with angry tears pricking at your eyes.

You had messed up once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own haikyuu, or any of the characters. This book is also inspired by Elena Ferrante and her books, and I do try to write in a similar way to her. In a way, you could also call this a 'My Brilliant Friend' fanfiction because this story is based on that book.
> 
> I have also published this book on Wattpad, and I will update more frequently there. My username there is @HELENAJUNEX


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